


Someone New

by namupokemanchan



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abusive Reginald Hargreeves, Alive Reginald Hargreeves, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Autistic Luther Hargreeves, Autistic Number Five | The Boy, Blood and Violence, Canon Disabled Character, Childhood Friends, Confused Luther Hargreeves, Corporal Punishment, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Father-Son Relationship, Five is actually thirteen, Fuck the Police, Gaslighting, Grace is Trying, Group Homes, Human Grace Hargreeves, Hurt Luther Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Luther Hargreeves Deserves Better, Luther Hargreeves Has a Human Body, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Luther Hargreeves has an eating disorder, Manipulative Relationship, Number Five | The Boy is So Done, Past Child Abuse, Police, Police Brutality, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Safehouses, Self-Harm, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, adult raised as child, allison is missing an arm, allsion is a black queen but she still has purple hair, and added tv angst to it, because i wanna traumatize these bitches, ben isn't dead, but super shitty, diego is missing an eye, he goes to jail guys, i took comic angst, not incest but reginald is weird to luther, paralyzed vanya, uwu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 43,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namupokemanchan/pseuds/namupokemanchan
Summary: Number One is special. At least that's what his brilliant father told him his entire life. That's why he can never go outside; because people would be scared of him. They wouldn't understand him.But when his father disappears, Number One finally leaves the basement and realizes the world is not what he thought.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Grace Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Inspector Lupo & Diego Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Everyone, Luther Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves
Comments: 127
Kudos: 124





	1. Green Eggs And Child Abuse

Number One looked up at the door hopefully when he heard a floorboard creak but turned back to his book when he remembered that his daddy wouldn't be home yet. He was busy being a secret agent and saving the world and he'd be home at 3:55. 

It was only 2:37. One sighed and chewed on his thumb nail as he flipped through his book. He had read Green Eggs and Ham more times than he could count, even though he couldn't count very high and he was quickly getting bored. He'd ask his daddy for new books when he came home. 

Number One got to his feet and walked over to the blackboard on the dining room wall, his grippy socks squeaking on the floor.  **_MORe BOOks_ ** he wrote in blue chalk in his shaky handwriting.

It was almost One's 29th birthday, so he could ask for more things. He loved his stuffed animals and books and toys but they got boring sometimes. 

Number One had another thought and quickly added  **_gO OUtSiDe_ ** to the chalkboard. His father had never let him go outside before but he knew it was because he cared.

Number One was special in ways people wouldn't understand. People would try to take him away from his father if they knew about him and they would lock him up like a princess in one of his books. As much as Number One liked princesses, he didn't want to live alone in a tower like one. 

He shivered at the thought and chewed on his finger nail again, a common sign of anxiety in him. Number One wiped his hand on his sweater and curled up in his beanbag chair, hugging his chimpanzee stuffed animal to his chest. 

"Sir is going to be back soon, Pogo," he mumbled to his toy, burying his face into the fake fur. 

Pogo didn't say anything but that was okay. Number One knew he understood him. 

He must have fallen asleep because when One woke up, he had a blanket over his shoulders and the basement smelled like his father's cigarettes. "Sir?" Number One asked vaguely, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Rise and shine, Number One," Reginald replied softly, sitting down next to his son and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

One giggled and nuzzled his face into his father's chest. "Hi daddy."

"Hello, my dear." Reginald ran his fingers through his soft blond hair, sliding his free arm around Number One's waist. "What did you do today?"

He thought for a moment. "Read a princess book, played with Pogo and I made a birthday present list."

"Did you now?" His father asked in the special voice he used when Number One was being extra good. 

One looked up at his father and nodded happily. "Mmhm! I want a cake, more books-"

Reginald cut across his son, removing his arm from his waist. "You know you can't have cake, Number One."

"But-"

"You get sick when you have that much sugar, dear," he explained, adjusting the collar of Number One's shirt. "And I can't have you getting sick. Understand?"

He smiled slightly at his father's touch and nodded again. "I understand, sir."

"Good boy," Reginald praised, causing his son to beam at him. "Now let's focus on something more immediate, shall we? What do you want for dinner?"

Number One leaned his head against his father's chest, playing with the end of his necktie. "Remember that casserole you got? With the cream cheese and stuff?"

"Too fattening for you, Number One. You're getting to be a big boy and you need to take care of your body." Reginald reached up One's shirt and pinched a bit of the fat on his stomach. "You can't be eating as much as you want now, dear."

Number One squirmed and pouted at his father. "But I like cheese…"

"I know, dear, I've seen your stomach," his father teased, slipping both of his hands up One's shirt and squishing his love handles between his fingers. 

He giggled and pressed his face into Reginald's neck. "You like my stomach."

Laughing good-naturedly, he pressed a kiss to the top of Number One's head. "I do. You're very soft."

"I like soft," Number One mumbled, snuggling into his father and pulling his blanket around himself. "I like casserole too," he said hopefully. 

Reginald pinched Number One's bare thigh and rubbed his thumb against the red mark. "No casserole, dear boy. Pick a different dinner."

His son pouted, shifting his legs and pulling them up onto his father's lap. "Sushi. The orange type."

Despite not understanding chopsticks and gagging on soy sauce, Number One liked the sushi he was allowed very much. The sushi he was allowed mostly consisted of mango, rice, cucumber and seaweed but it was good just the same. 

"Alright dear. Orange sushi." Reginald kissed his son's head again and slid his thighs off his lap. "You should have a nap before dinner."

Number One whined softly and grabbed his father's arm tightly. "No! I want to stay with you."

Sighing, Reginald allowed his son to snuggle up against him and wrapped the blanket around him. "Alright, Number One. But only because you're so cute."

One buried his face into Reginald's shoulder, humming happily. His daddy was nice, safe and warm, plus he smelled like the cigarettes he smoked when he wasn't around Number One. 

He fell asleep a few minutes later with his father running his hands through his hair and whispering sweet nothings to him. 

Number One woke up alone with his stuffed animal tucked under his arm and a food tray set down next to him. There was a small plate with thinly sliced mango and rice, the many medications he needs to stay functional and a glass of water with a note next to it.

_ My dearest Number One: _

_ I have tragically been called away on a business trip and will not return for a few days. Your icebox has enough food and your medication has been scheduled.  _

_ Good day.  _

Number One sighed and took his pills with his glass of water, squeezing the note in his free hand. He missed when he was a teenager and his father was around almost all day. Reginald used to play with him and read to him all the time and now…

To distract himself, Number One started eating his dinner sadly. Food always made him feel better. 


	2. A Very Very Bad Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for police violence and vomiting

Number One woke up with drool on his cheek and with the edge of his blanket in his mouth, his face pressed into his pillow. Blushing slightly, he wiped away the drool but kept the blanket in his mouth. He chewed on the edge of it sleepily, pulling his Pogo into his arms and hugging it tightly. 

"You think daddy's going to go home soon?" Number One asked the stuffed animal, his voice laced with obvious concern. 

Pogo didn't respond but that didn't matter; One knew what he meant and buried his face into the stuffed chimpanzee. He pulled his blanket over his head and snuggled into his pillows. 

Number One didn't like waking up without his father. Reginald would wake him up with a glass of milk or juice and a kiss on the cheek before going to save the world. He understood why his father had to spend more time away from him; the world was a lot worse and scarier than it was a few years ago so Reginald had to protect more people. 

One smiled at the thought. His father was the best person he knew, even though he didn't know any other people. 

And Reginald certainly didn't get enough recognition for everything he did for the world! There weren't any stories or movies about him, even though he really, really deserved it. 

Number One got an idea and quickly scrambled out of his crib, dragging Pogo and his blanket with him as he bounced over to his art supplies. Chewing on the edge of his blanket, he opened a box of crayons in search of Robin's Egg Blue and Tickle Me Pink- his favourite colours. 

Despite having substandard handwriting, Number One prided himself on his art. He understood which colours went together, how to blend them together and how to create beautiful works of art, at least in Reginald's opinion. His father was his world so that was all that mattered to Number One. 

He continued chewing on his blanket as he drew, humming happily and wiggling his fluffy socked feet in the air. His pajamas were soft, his socks were cozy, his blanket was chewy, Pogo was snuggly and his drawing was coming along wonderfully. Nothing could possibly ruin Number One's day. 

Once he finished his drawing, he taped it to the wall by his bed and stepped back to examine his work. "What do you think, Pogo?" Number One asked, hugging the stuffed animal to his chest. 

Pogo didn't reply but the man holding him smiled and pressed a kiss to the fluffy toy's head anyways. "You're right, it does look nice there."

There was the sound of loud knocking coming from above and Number One winced, hugging his stuffed animal tightly. He had never heard anything like it before and wasn't sure what was happening. Were there people in the house?

There was more knocking and then the sound of a voice yelling something Number One couldn't understand but terrified him anyways. That wasn't his father upstairs so it had to be the bad people. They knew he was special and they were going to take him away and-

Number One's hands were shaking as he bolted across the room to his closet, flinging open the door and shoving the clothes aside. His father designed Number One's bedroom with a secret compartment in the closet, just big enough for his son to hide in until he came to retrieve him.

Sliding open the secret door with shaky hands, Number One squeezed himself into the compartment. He had grown since it was designed so his legs were bent uncomfortably under him and pressed against his chest as he pulled the door shut. Number One wiped at his eyes awkwardly as tears started to run down his cheeks. 

No one had ever tried to get into their house before and despite his father's precautions, he was terrified beyond belief. There was a loud crash from upstairs and Number One audibly whimpered, digging his nails into his arms. 

Wait, where was Pogo? He felt around frantically for his stuffed animal but was unable to find him. Sniffling, One peeked out of the closet and spotted his toy lying on the floor where he dropped it in his panic. 

There were loud footsteps and banging sounds from the upper floor but… Pogo wasn't safe out there. Number One bit his lip, whining from fear and anxiety as he stared at Pogo. His hands were shaking and tears had started pooling up in his eyes, making One's breath come out in short gasps. 

He hesitated. The bad people were coming but he needed his Pogo. As quickly and quietly as possible, Number One wiggled out of his hiding space and across his bedroom floor. He grabbed his stuffed chimpanzee just as the door was kicked open. 

Number One whimpered in fear, hugging Pogo to his chest and trying to crawl back to his closet before the bad people noticed him. 

There were three of them. All men, all wearing matching black uniforms with big white letters on them, all of their faces covered and all holding things Number One recognized as guns. 

One of the men noticed him and raised their gun, pointing it at the terrified man. "You! Hands in the air!"

He was loud, much too loud so Number One covered his ears with his hands and shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Where was his dad right now? 

"Citizen is resisting," another one of the men said, also loudly, also aiming his gun at the face of the sobbing Number One. "Drop it and put your hands up!"

He still didn't comply, hunching against the wall and curling up into himself. Number One was crying even harder, desperately hoping this was a very very bad dream. 

He clamped his eyes shut, shaking his head and breathing shakily. He was going to wake up any minute and his daddy would be there and everything would be fine and-

At a hard poke in the soft part of his cheek, Number One opened his eyes and his blood ran cold. There was the barrel of a gun pressed hard into his face and this was not a dream. 

Pogo slipped out of Number One's shaky hands as he raised them above his head slowly, tears running down his cheek. "I'm sorry…" he mumbled in an attempt to defuse the situation. 

His father would occasionally stop yelling or hitting Number One once he apologized, even if he didn't know why he was apologizing. 

He usually didn't. 

Unfortunately the apology didn't work because Number One was dragged out of the basement with something rough, painful and metal digging into his wrists. Whether from stress or fear, he had thrown up. 

Number One paled when he saw the mess he had made on himself and the masked man dragging him up the stairs. "Oh- oh I'm sorry-"

The man made a disgusted noise and grabbed his captive's shoulder, slamming Number One's head into the wall. 

He passed out almost immediately after a strangled noise of pain, collapsing on the staircase and hitting his head again. 


	3. Detective

Handcuffed to a table and covered in his own bodily fluids was not how Number One planned to spend his day. But alas, here he was; blood and dried tears crusted against his cheek and forehead, vomit on his sweater and more blood on the edge of his sleeves.

One of Number One's nervous ticks was scratching at his wrists and being locked in a silver windowless room was making him incredibly nervous. 

He glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed, scratching at his bloody and raw wrist. Was this some kind of bizarre punishment Reginald had constructed for him? Was he going to be stuck in here until his father was certain he was sorry?

Sniffling, Number One wiped his eyes on his sleeves and looked around the room for hidden cameras. He couldn't find anything that looked like a camera so he settled his gaze on the mirror and wiped a bit of the blood off his cheek. 

"Daddy-?" Number One started, his voice shaky and ragged sounding from all of his crying. "Daddy, I'm- I'm sorry about…"

Oh god. What had he done wrong? Number One tried to frantically think of what he had done recently to receive any punishment and- oh no. The shaky smile he had been trying to hold slipped off Number One's face. 

"Is this about the casserole?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper and tears filling his eyes. "I'm sorry I asked about it," Number One mumbled as he wiped the tears of his face, staring at his reflection in the shiny metal table he was handcuffed to. "That was bad of me…"

He trailed off, thoughts moving to food. When was the last time he had eaten? 

Eudora stretched her legs out under her desk and took a sip of her coffee before realizing the cup was empty. She dropped it into the garbage can and glanced up at the clock. Her shift was almost over and Eudora couldn't wait. Her boyfriend's house arrest had ended yesterday and apparently he had planned something for them. 

Smiling to herself, Eudora fiddled with the rabbit foot keychain that he had bought her. 

"Detective Patch?"

She looked up, her eyes meeting a pair surrounded by smile lines and scarred skin. "Inspector Lupo, what can I do for you? Is my tie too loose?" Eudora asked jokingly, her mouth curling into a slight smile. 

Lupo smiled back under his salt and pepper moustache. "I'm always a fan of the respect for the uniform, but no. I was supposed to interrogate a suspect but something came up. Could you get around to that?" He usually did suspect interrogations; older white men with scars could be very intimidating. 

Eudora bit back a sigh. "Is Diego still going to be free tonight?" When Lupo talked about things coming up, he usually meant the family therapy sessions he had with his son Diego and ex-wife. 

"His parole officer wants him home after eight so I don't think so," Lupo said apologetically. "But if you get a confession before seven, you two might still have time for-"

Eudora smiled as the inspector grimaced. 

"-for whatever you crazy kids get up to, alright? So get interrogating, love."

She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I got it, Inspector, I got it."

According to the SWAT agents who brought the suspect in, they had "left him to stew in his juices for a while" when they had brought them in that morning. All she knew was that they were blond, male and possibly dangerous. Eudora had absolutely no idea what to expect. 

She certainly didn't expect to see a shaky man crying at the interrogation table. 

The man (who really looked more like a boy than a man) looked up when she walked into the room and curled in on himself, looking at the floor. 

"I think you know why you're here," Eudora hissed in her best interrogation voice, pacing in front of the table. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking up at Eudora for the first time and she finally got a good look at him. 

When the SWAT team said "stew in his juices," she hadn't thought they meant literally. Vomit and blood stained his face and clothes and his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Oh, uh…" Eudora couldn't stop staring at him. She hadn't seen someone look so stressed and broken since the first time she visited Diego at his last group home. "Why don't you tell me your name, okay?" Smiling, Eudora took a seat across from him. 

"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers…" the boy whispered, scratching at the inside of his wrist. 

Oh god. Definitely been through some shit. "Well my name's detective Patch and I'm part of the police force. See? Now I'm not a stranger."

The boy seemed satisfied by that. "My name's Number One."

"Number One? Just Number One?" She asked, fiddling with the rabbit foot on her keychain. 

"Yeah."

"Uh, okay. So Number One, what do you know about methamphetamine?"

Number One had to be the strangest person Eudora had ever interrogated. He didn't have a last name, didn't know what a lawyer was and had no concept of crime but the most concerning thing he said was about his home life. 

Eudora blinked. "So this is the first time you've left your room? Ever?"

One nodded. "Mmhm. My daddy says I'm special and people would try to hurt me if I left." He sniffled and looked at the floor. "He was right…"

"How old are you, Number One?"

"Twenty eight and three quarters!" he said in the way only a child would. 

Christ, Eudora thought to herself as she got out of her chair. "I'll be right back, kid."

Number One nodded and went back to playing with the sleeve of his sweater and humming softly. 

God I should get him a new shirt. She smiled back at him as she left the interrogation room and pulled out her phone, quickly pulling Lupo's number. "Inspector?"

There was a woman's voice yelling before Lupo answered. "What, detective?"

"There's something wrong with the suspect. Like some serious, serious shit." Eudora said quickly, remembering that he was in family therapy. 

"Yeah Dora, I think that's why he was arrested." Lupo huffed. "Can this wait?"

"He calls his dad daddy and his name is Number One." 

The inspector sighed and yelled "Dammit Maria, he's a grown man! He can make his own decisions!"

Eudora winced and waited for him to stop. 

"Jesus, Eudora that's- that's some cult shit right there. I'll look into his records once I'm done with this shit, can you- I don't know, talk to him or something? Or run him through the abuse screening."

Lupo's voice was unusually serious and solemn. "I want to know if that old drug dealer is also a damn child abuser."

Eudora bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, will do."

She hung up and after picking up the abuse screening manual, decided to pick up a hoodie from the lost and found. Number One could use some comfort. 


	4. Diego's Missing Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing:
> 
> Klaus Fischer: gay idiot. Drug problem. Basic german last name
> 
> Grace Hargreeves: trans mom who's done constantly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for @Engrin  
> Thank you for your amazing comments, they give me life

One liked Eudora. He had never met a woman before so he hadn't been sure what to expect but Eudora was great. She had shiny black hair, a smile that made One feel safe and a cool jacket that crinkled when she moved. 

Not like the women Number One's books were about but interesting all the same. 

The only thing he didn't like about detective Patch was the confusing questions she asked. 

"Number One? Did you hear me?" Eudora asked, waving one hand in front of him. 

One looked up from where he had been playing with the buttons precinct's break room couch. "Um no, sorry."

She smiled comfortingly and he relaxed his shoulders. "I asked if your uh, daddy ever hurt you."

That made Number One uncomfortable. He went back to fiddling with the pillows, biting his lip. Reginald had trained him on what to do if he was being questioned by someone. 

One shook his head when he finally looked up at Patch again. "My daddy's nice, he doesn't hurt me."

Eudora smiled uncomfortably, spinning her pen through her fingers. "Well I noticed some cigarette burns on the inside of your wrist when you changed sweaters."

He pulled his sleeves down over his hands quickly, rubbing the toe of one of his too small cat slippers into the floor. "Well, um, they don't hurt."

Eudora smiled tightly and added to the paperwork: father is physically abusive but Number One searches for excuses. 

The paperwork was mostly filled out apart from the sexual abuse part but Eudora wasn't going to touch that. One of the oncall social workers could do that. 

"You've done really good," she said in the encouraging voice she used when Diego was bedridden from depression. "When was the last time you ate?"

One thought for a moment. "Yesterday."

Geez. "Let's get you some food then, alright?" Eudora offered her hand to him before glancing at his too small pajama pants. "And some new pants too."

After digging through her car, Eudora found a pair of Diego's pants under her backseat and smirked as she threw them over her shoulder. 

Number One was smaller than Diego was in the waist but she figured that slightly too big jeans were better than children sized train pajamas. Especially blood stained ones with other assorted bodily fluid staining them. 

"Are you allergic to anything?" Eudora asked, straightening One's sweater. 

"What's allergic?" He asked, chewing on the sleeve of his sweater. 

Right, he doesn't understand things. "Is there anything food you can't eat?"

One thought for a moment, still chewing on his sweater. "Cheese, fat, meat, um… sugar too."

"Uh, yeah, okay." Eudora forced a smile. "Being a vegetarian is cool."

Number One shrugged, mouthful of sweater. He wasn't sure what that meant but he liked being cool in the detective's eyes. She had pretty hair and wasn't scary like the people in the black clothes. 

Three strawberry applesauce pouches later, One was curled up on the break room couch and dozing off. His face was pressed into the cushions and with his eyes closed he looked more like a child than ever, especially with his too big clothes. 

Eudora sighed, sitting on the couch across from Number One. She couldn't leave him to fend for himself, especially not with his unhealthy attachment to his father. 

"Patch? Detective Patch?" A male voice asked from her radio. 

She got off the couch and unclipped the radio from her belt. "Yeah, talk to me."

"Drunk and disorderly. Male, nineteen, ginger."

Eudora closed her eyes, eyebrows knitting together. She knew who that was. "Yeah, alright. I got this. Holding cell?"

"Yeah, work your magic."

She sighed, getting to her feet. "You wait here, One. I'll be right back."

Number One didn't respond, drooling slightly on the couch.

Eudora pulled her hair back into her no nonsense ponytail and closed the break room door behind her. She had been through this rodeo with this nineteen year old male ginger before many times. 

Said nineteen year old perked up when Eudora approached the holding cell, pushing his greasy orangey red hair out of his eyes. "Hey Dora!" Klaus said brightly, his heavily made up eyes out of focus. 

"It's Detective Patch while I'm working, Klaus." Eudora smiled uncomfortably as she unlocked the holding cell. "Come on, kid."

Klaus giggled vaguely and skipped after the detective. "You look like a mermaid."

"Get into ecstacy again, huh kid?" 

"Not sure. I think I swallowed my tongue."

"Well you're still talking so I think you'll be alright, Fischer." Eudora confirmed, leading Klaus to her office. 

He beamed and hugged her arm. "You know my last nameeee!"

"I only deal with you every week, Klaus. I'm used to you."

* * *

Running a group home for dysfunctional teens and adults was not what Grace had planned for herself. She had planned two point five kids, a middle class husband with a college degree and a white picket fence. Some sort of normalcy. 

Like her family, she had expected a life befitting someone from the 1950s but with better healthcare. Again like her family, Grace had been disappointed to find out that she would never have that. 

At nineteen, she came out as transgender and was subsequently cut off from the people Grace no longer called her family. It hurt at first, but thirty four years later she was over it. 

Grace still missed the family she would never had but she felt better taking care of people who needed her help and she considered most of the people who passed through her group home to be family. Except for the junkie who tried to bite another resident's finger off. That guy was creepy and unwelcome. 

The old mint wall phone rang and Grace quickly picked up the receiver of the phone that so matched her 1950s aesthetic. "Hargreeves group home, what can I do for you?" She asked in her best professional but delicate voice. 

"Hey Grace, I got some kids for you."

She instantly recognized Detective Patch's voice and smiled even though she wouldn't see it. "Oh? Tell me about them?"

Eudora sounded tired when she spoke again. "You already know Klaus Fischer and there's this boy named Number One. Really weird, kind of messed up in the head."

Grace pursed her bright pink lips at the Detective's choice of words. "I'm sure he's just a little quirky, dear. What's his legal name?"

"I don't even think he has one. And he's more than quirky, Hargreeves. He's twenty eight but thinks he's a kid and calls his criminal father his daddy." Disgust was palpable in Eudora's voice and Grace could hear her tapping her desk with a pen. 

"Oh dear. Well, that uh, that sounds like he's been through a lot and I'd love to take them both in."

They finished sorting out the details and Grace beamed as she hung up the phone. Her family was going to get a little bigger. 


	5. What's Wrong, Baby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace interviews One and Klaus supports the deaf

Number One wanted to go home. He didn't want to go to the new home with new people and away from his father. He wanted to be with his real daddy and Pogo, not with the social worker. 

Hell, Number One would rather stay in the precinct break room than live with strange people. 

He chewed on one of his fingernails, waiting for Eudora to come back. She was supposed to be bringing the social worker in to interview him about his home situation and One was incredibly nervous about it. It would probably help if he knew what an interview was. 

He swung his legs under the chair, humming a song from a movie he didn't really remember. Would an interview hurt? Number One's stomach clenched in fear and he started scratching at his wrist, hard. 

He finally stopped when he drew blood and started chewing on his sleeve instead. 

The door finally opened and it wasn't Eudora who approached One but a skinny teenager with bloodshot eyes and sunken cheeks. 

"Hi," the teenager whispered, plopping down on the armrest of Number One's chair. 

One didn't say anything, shrinking away from the boy and staring at the floor. He was a stranger and he looked scary but most of all, the teenager with the strange eyes was a boy. Reginald had made it very clearly that he was the only man Number One was ever to talk to. 

"I'm Klaus," the boy tried again, climbing off the chair and trying to meet One's eyes.

Number One said nothing again, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. This was a test. His father had put him through similar tests before to see if One would follow his rules; this had to be a test. 

He rubbed at the healing cigarette burns on the inside of his wrist uncomfortably. Had this all been a test? Was Eudora even going to come back? Had she ever been there in the first place? 

Number One's breath caught in his throat as panic spread through him and Klaus stared at him.

"Are you okay, man?" He asked, crouching down to One's eye line. "Did you get some bad stuff or something?"

This was the interview, wasn't it? Was interview another word for test?

"Wait, nah," Klaus said, snapping his fingers. "This is a panic attack, man. You're having a panic attack. You just gotta calm down."

One finally looked at Klaus for the first time and the ginger boy smiled, dropping into a sitting position on the floor. 

"Cool, you're not deaf. Hi." Klaus waved at him. 

One didn't wave back but that didn't phase him. "Think about something calming. Like uh, bees. Bees are cool."

The door opened again and Klaus looked over his shoulder. "Gracie! Dora! Hi!"

Eudora rolled her eyes but smiled at Klaus and the blonde woman accompanying her beamed at him. 

"Hi there, dear," she said sweetly, offering her hand to Klaus and pulling him to his feet. "How are you feeling?"

Klaus hugged her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder. "I'm okay, Grace. I think that kid broke his brain though."

Grace looked over Klaus' shoulder at Number One, taking in his shaky hands and pale face. "Oh dear. Klaus, wait in the car with Eudora, I need to deal with this." 

Klaus nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek before skipping out of the room with Eudora. When he had left, One looked up and wiped the tears off his face. 

"Did I pass?" He asked nervously, pulling his sleeves down over his hands. 

Grace sat down in the chair across from him, setting a clipboard down on her knee. "Did you pass what, dearest?"

"The um, the test. The test to see if I would talk to a man." One looked up at Grace, sniffling. 

She made a note on the clipboard. "Oh honey, that wasn't a test. Klaus is barely a man really, he's just a little boy like you."

Number One smiled slightly at that and Grace smiled back, showing perfectly white teeth. 

"Oh, okay." He said softly, relaxing. 

"Why can't you talk to men, baby?"

Number One shifted awkwardly in his chair. "My daddy said I can't, except for him. He's the only man I need anyways, so um, it's okay."

"Probably gets jealous, huh?"

One nodded. "Maybe."

Grace made another note. "Any other rules your daddy have for you?"

A lot, apparently. His father had rules about what One could eat, when he could eat, when you could sleep, what he could say, what he could wear and most concerningly: where he could go. Apparently this was the first time he had ever left his house. 

"My daddy doesn't let me go outside because of the bad people." Number One continued, playing with a loose thread on his sweater. 

Grace looked up from her notes. "The bad people?"

He nodded. "There's bad people who want to take me away because I'm special."

«Munchausen By Proxy? Some form of manipulative child abuse is present.» Grace added to her notes. 

"How are you special, dear?" She asked, doodling a heart next to the word injuries.

Number One shrugged. "I have powers, I think. They haven't really done anything yet though."

Grace blinked. This was new. She had dealt with a lot of people with strange disorders but never this. Never someone who's abusive father had conditioned them into thinking they had superpowers. 

"Like, like a superhero?"

He nodded. "Mmhm! My daddy's a secret agent spy so he'd know."

Grace smiled sadly, tapping her pen on her clipboard. "That's uh, alright dear. What does your father do as a spy?"

"He saves the world and stuff. I dunno, he doesn't really tell me about it." Number One had started chewing on the sleeve of his sweater. 

He thought for a moment and rubbed one foot into the carpet. "I miss him. I wanna see my daddy."

Grace offered her hand to him and squeezed his hand gently when he took it. "I'm sure you do, honey, but you can still be happy without him. Don't you think your daddy would want you to be happy?"

Number One shrugged again, staring at Grace's hands. "I dunno." He looked up at her. "Are you a princess? You look like a princess."

She smiled. "No dear, I'm not a princess but that's sweet of you. How about you and I go get, um-" she glanced at her notes "-Pogo, hm? Would that make you feel better?"

One nodded, getting to his feet. "Yeah… I miss Pogo."


	6. Mostly Nice (sometimes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for past child abuse, corporal punishment and gaslighting

"Number One? Number One, can you hear me?" 

He looked up, coming out of a daydream. "What?"

Reginald sighed. "Did you hear anything I said?"

One shrunk back into himself, running one hand over his arm. "No daddy, sorry. I was just thinking about-"

His father cut him off. "You know how important it is for you to listen to me, Number One."

He nodded, holding back a protest. "I know, sir. I'm sorry."

"If you know then why don't you listen to me?" Reginald's voice had lost the sweet fatherly tone that Number One enjoyed, shifting to something more cold and calculated.

This was a test. He bit his lip, hugging his knees to his chest. "I got, um… distracted," Number One explained, stumbling over the last word. 

His father looked like the worst combination of disappointed and annoyed. "By what?"

He thought back to his daydream. Number One had been thinking about being a princess and finding talking animals in a forest. "I don't, um, I don't know." 

Reginald sighed, turning up Number One's chin and rubbing one finger over his jawline. "You don't remember why I wasn't worthy of your attention."

His heart sank. "No, that's- no, I just-"

Reginald cut across his protests again. "If you're not going to respect my time, I'll leave. You've already gotten breakfast so you don't need me here anymore, Number One." He released his son's face and moved to get to his feet. 

One desperately clung to his father's arm. "I do! I do need you!"

"Number One? Hey kid? One?"

He looked up, realizing that he was digging his nails into Eudora's arm and crying in a car. "Oh. Um-" One dropped her arm and moved away from her. "Sorry."

She smiled sadly and offered her hand to him. "You can hold my hand if it'll make you feel better."

"Just stop yelling daddy," Klaus huffed from the front seat, pulling out one of his earbuds. "You sound gay."

Grace snapped her fingers at him. "Watch it, child."

"I'm mostly gay," he muttered under his breath. "I can say it."

Eudora rolled her eyes and One blushed, hugging himself.

"Tell Klaus I'm sorry." He mumbled. 

Eudora patted his leg. "You can talk to boys, One. It's okay."

One shook his head, hugging himself tighter. 

Grace glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "You can't push him, detective. We'll get him a butch to talk to or something. You know Miss Ivanov likes her blond boys."

Klaus cackled and poked Eudora's knee. "Your boyfriend's doin' the lesbo!" He cooed in a singsong voice. 

Grace rolled her eyes. "She's not doing anything with him except tuning guitars."

The rest of the car ride followed in a similar way. Klaus being a little shit, Grace telling him to watch his mouth, Eudora continuously asking if Number One was okay and he kept hugging himself and holding back tears.

When the car stopped at the group home, Klaus jumped out and held up two middle fingers to it. "What's up motherfucker!"

One flinched, pulling his sweater up over his ears and whining softly. Eudora put her hand on his shoulder and he whined louder, trying to pull away. 

She pulled her hand away and turned to Grace. '"Can you like, fix him?"

Grace sighed. "You don't fix people, Eudora. Go get Klaus to shut his hole."

She rolled her eyes and climbed out of the car. "That I can do."

Grace sat down next to One, adjusting her skirt. "Don't mind Klaus, dear. He's like that when he's sobering up."

Number One shook his head, hugging himself. "I don't- I don't-"

"Picture the word in your head, Number One."

"I don't- don't know what's happening." He mumbled, nails digging into his shoulders. 

Klaus had stopped swearing at the house and was now only giggling softly. He slumped down against the wall of the old brick house, smiling vaguely. 

"That's okay," Grace told Number One in her most motherly voice. "How about we go get your Pogo now, dear?"

He nodded, sniffling. "Okay."

"There's a good boy." She patted his hand gently. 

The drive to Number One's old house was exciting but mostly scary for him. Grace had told him he wasn't allowed to leave the car so he had better describe Pogo to her. 

"Um, he's fluffy and brown and he's a chimpanzee and stuff," One whispered, picturing his stuffed animal in his head. "He's my bestest friend. After daddy."

"You're best friends with your daddy, huh?" Grace repeated, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. 

One nodded, rubbing at the burns on his wrist. "Mmhm."

"Even though he burns you?" She asked, knuckles tightening on the wood of the steering wheel. 

Number One pulled his sleeve down quickly. "They don't hurt, really." He sniffled softly and stared at his feet. "He's a good daddy. A really good daddy."

Grace nodded uncomfortably. "Alright dear, I'm sorry for pushing."

The rest of the drive was spent in silence. 

Reginald was a good daddy, wasn't he? He fed One and took care of him, always made sure that he was safe and happy, plus he'd buy him toys and books and other stuff. He was good. A good daddy.

He just… sometimes had a bad temper. But that wasn't a bad thing because he was nice and he always apologized after. Well not always but mostly. And Number One always healed up right after, even that one time his daddy snapped his fingers in the icebox. 

One's stomach clenched at the thought and he rubbed at the uneven part where his fingers had broken. Even over ten years later, they still hadn't healed properly and cramped in the cold.


	7. Shockingly Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touch starvation and eating disorders? In my Luther?
> 
> It's more likely than you think

Grace had seen a lot of shit in her time as a social worker but Number One's basement was a whole 'nother level of shit. Uncanny valley kind of shit. 

If you didn't know who lived there, you'd think it was a child's room. Probably a boy's, around seven or eight judging by the airplane models, disney decorations and baby blue wallpaper. It was shockingly normal until you looked a little closer. 

The bed which was a cross between a crib and a child's bed was too big for a child. All of the drawings were signed "By NumBeR oNe" and other lopsided variations of the boy's name. There was still blood and traces of vomit from when he was arrested. 

The room made Grace's stomach clench and her heart hurt. She wanted to spend as little time in it as possible so she needed to find Pogo. Grace's knuckles tightened on the handle of the suitcase she had brought with her when she saw a shelf with bottles of different coloured pills and a wooden ruler.

There was dried blood on the seven inches mark.

All of the pills were labeled but not with scientific names. "Nighttime ✩" was written in fancy cursive on a bottle of dark blue medication and the other ones bore similar labels. Morning pills, breakfast time, lunchtime, naptime, bedtime pills, pouty pills and concerningly, a bottle that only had a smiley face on it. 

Grace tucked them into the suitcase she had brought. She wasn't sure which pills One needed and which were dangerous; she'd rather not leave necessary medication. Making a mental note to get a doctor to screen them, Grace continued looking for Number One's stuffed animal.

She found Pogo half under the crib-bed with blood on one of his ears. Sighing, Grace rubbed at the blood but it didn't come off. 

"We'll have to clean you up, won't we?" She asked the stuffed animal as she tucked it into the suitcase. 

Grace glanced at a door at the end of the room which was presumably One's closet. He had told her that he "hided from the bad people" in his closet and from the look of borrowed clothes, he could definitely use his own. 

She opened the door slowly. God, she hoped the clothes weren't creepy.

The door opened to a surprisingly cute bathroom. Apart from the extra large bathtub it was normal, even sweet. Grace noticed a hand washing chart and a bathroom reward sticker chart and smiled before remembering where she was. 

This was not cute, this was the pastel blue prison One had been trapped in his entire life. And men in their twenties don't need bathroom sticker charts. 

* * *

Number One sighed, leaning his head against the car window. He was tired from being out all day and from sleeping on the break room couch, plus the sun was bothering him. One hadn't expected the sun to hurt so much, especially in his eyes. 

Closing his eyes, he pulled his arms into his sweater to get them out of the sun and snuggled into the car seat. It was a little after 1 pm and it was a Tuesday, so One could sleep now. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, he'd have naptime instead of lunchtime.

Naptime days were better because daddy would read to One and would sometimes even cuddle with him. He smiled at the memory, hugging himself. He could almost pretend that his daddy was holding him instead. 

Reginald was a good cuddler. He smelled nice and felt safe and warm, like a teddy bear. Except he was better than a teddy bear because bears couldn't hug him or play with him or be his daddy. 

One sighed, wiggling out of his sweater. It wasn't fair that the police people got to take Reginald away. He still needed him. Well he'd always need his daddy (Reginald liked to remind him of that constantly) but he especially needed him now. It was almost Reginald's birthday and he never worked on his birthday. 

Number One scowled at the floor. That was their special day, and the police ruined it. 

He sniffled and scratched at his arm. The sun hurt more but it was too hot to keep the sweater on. 

There was a knock on the car door and One jumped before realizing it was Grace. 

She smiled as she opened the door and plopped into the driver's seat, setting the suitcase next to him. "I got you your Pogo, as well as some clothes, toys and uh-" her smile faltered "-your medicine."

Number One beamed at her and unzipped the suitcase, digging through the clothes for Pogo. "Thank you Grace," he said softly, hugging the stuffed animal to his chest. 

Her smile came back when she saw how sweet One was with his chimpanzee. "Of course, dear. Now let's get you some lunch- oh, what happened to your arms?"

He looked down at his arms. They had gotten red and painful in the few hours he had been in the hot car. "Oh, um, I think I'm allergic to outside."

"Baby, you can't- oh, I think you got a sunburn," Grace tutted sympathetically, holding One's hand so she could examine his arm more closely. "I didn't think you could burn so fast in a car, but I guess you're more sensitive, huh?"

Number One shrugged, rubbing at his arm. "I guess."

"I'll get you some medicine for that." She pulled her hand away and started the car, pulling out of the driveway. 

One wilted slightly when Grace let go of his hand so he held his own hand instead. It didn't feel the same. 

That was another good thing about Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. The craved, hallowed even, physical contact. Who cares if Number One only got one or two meals, as long as he got a hug and kiss from or got to snuggle with his daddy?

He'd trade food for a hug any day of the week. 


	8. Meet The Crazy Bunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Making a bad pun of an album no one's listen to since 1973? You fucking bet

Number One was not good at meeting new people. It was a very new concept, as the second person he'd ever met was Eudora. Usually the new people were girls, people he was allowed to talk to but Grace said that most of the people in the group home were boys. 

"My daddy's going to be mad," One told Grace as she rubbed aloe vera onto his sunburns. 

She looked up at him. "Why do you say that, baby?"

One turned to look at a dent in the wall instead of at Grace. "He didn't want me to go outside and he didn't want me to talk to boys. Men. Y'know."

She sighed and squeezed his hand gently. "But he loves you, right? If he loves you, he'll forgive you."

"I guess," Number One mumbled, staring at Grace's hands. Her hands were softer than Reginald's and her nails were pink. 

"You don't have to talk to the boys if you're uncomfortable, dear," she reassured One, pulling her hand away so she could keep applying aloe vera. "I just want everyone to know who you are when they see you at meals or whenever."

Reginald probably wouldn't get mad about that. He was just going to listen to them, not talk to them. That was okay, right?

One nodded. "Okay. I don't think he'll get mad about that."

"Alright, honey." Grace got to her feet and held her hand out to him. 

He eagerly took her hand and followed her out of the bathroom, clinging to Grace. 

"Everyone's in the living room right now. I think they're playing pictionary or something like that."

Number One nodded, leaning his head against Grace's shoulder before pulling away slightly and standing up straight. People don't want needy boys.

"It's a crack pipe! You fucking idiot!" An unfamiliar voice yelled, followed by the sound of a person hitting another person. 

One flinched, covering his ears and whimpering softly. 

Grace sighed, dropping his hand so she could knock on the living room wall. "What the f- what on earth are you doing?"

"Playing pictionary," the first voice said as if it was obvious. "Klaus is just an idiot."

Number One ran his foot over the edge of a floorboard. That was a mean word. These people sounded scary and he didn't really want to meet them. 

"Don't be rude, Vanya. Someone new is going to be staying with you three." Grace told the people playing pictionary. 

"Hooker, I'm calling it! They're a hooker!" Klaus yelled, causing One to flinch and cover his ears. 

Grace reached out and patted Number One's arm gently. "Hush, Klaus. And you've already met him."

"Ohhhh, the weird man kid who's scared of me."

"I wonder why," Vanya mumbled. "Ow! Klaus!"

Grace rolled her eyes. "This is a place of peace and love, children. Plus he's scared to talk to all men, not just you."

One clung to her arm, trying to hide behind her which worked because she was over a head taller than him. 

She sighed and gently pulled his fingers off her arm. "Would you like to come out, dear?"

That wasn't a question, that was a request. Number One nodded shakily and stepped into the sitting room, averting his eyes away from Klaus. 

Klaus was lying across a couch, wearing a shirt so short it showed the bottom of his ribcage and was accompanied by two other people. A girl with black hair covering her eye and metal in her face was sitting in a chair with a low back and big wheels, looking very out of place in the 1950s room. 

The boy sitting next to her was incredibly pale, looking almost dead with hair as white as his skin and dark eyes that stood out against his skin. He turned his head to look at One, his hair turning the lightest shade of green in the sun. 

"That's Vanya Ivanov in the wheelchair," Grace said, pointing to the girl. 

"Hey man." Vanya pushed her hair out of her eyes, revealing more metal in her face. 

"That's Ben next to her." The boy with white or green hair raised his hand in response. 

"And you've already met Klaus." 

"Bonsoir!" Klaus trilled, sitting up and causing his ginger bangs to flop into his eyes. 

Vanya giggled. 

Grace smiled at all of them and patted One's shoulder. "Would you like to play pictionary with them?"

This was a question. He could say no. He shrugged, playing with the hem of his sweater instead of chewing it. He'd rather colour in his new room with Pogo. 

There was a loud noise from the upper floors and Grace cursed under her breath. "Damn- Number One, you stay here," she said hurriedly before leaving for the nearest staircase. 

One didn't have time to reply before he was alone with the strange new people. 

Vanya maneuvered her wheelchair over to One, looking up at him. "Number One? That's your name?"

He nodded. "Yeah." God he wanted to chew his sweater. 

"Cool. You wanna play with us? Ben needs someone on his team." 

Klaus rolled his eyes, putting his bare feet up on the coffee table. "He doesn't talk to men, Vanny."

"Huh." She looked unperturbed by this. "Alright then. Anything else we could do?"

Klaus shrugged. "Fuck if I know."

Ben got up from the couch and wrote "Two truths and a lie" on the whiteboard next to the drawing of what was presumably a crack pipe. 

"We can't play that if Binary boy won't talk to me or you, Benny." Klaus said, flopping across the couch. 

"That's not my name," Number One mumbled under his breath. 

"What's that, kiddo?" Klaus asked, leaning towards him. 

One shook his head, sitting down on the couch farthest from him. 

"Don't be mean, Klaus," Vanya told him, punching Number One's arm gently. "I've used to be scared of men for a while, it's cool."

One glanced at her and blushed slightly. "Cool…"

"I'll be damned, he speaks!" She laughed. "See? We can play if you're not gonna be an ass, Klaus."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "That's kind of my thing, Vanny."


	9. Don't Eat Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating disorder and abuse stuff

Klaus was a lot nicer when he was good at things and had a 18 month old baby, Vanya was paralyzed from the waist down and could crack her neck and Ben hadn't spoken since his first visit to the hospital; all of which Number One had learned from the game. He didn't fully understand the concept though, since he still considered lying to be bad in all contexts. 

"It's okay if you lie for this, man," Vanya explained after demonstrating her neck cracking ability. "That's the point of the game."

One chewed on the edge of his sweater sleeve. "But what if…" He trailed off, gaze turning to the box of cigarettes in her hand. They were the same type that Reginald smoked.

She noticed where he was looking and held the box out to him. "You want one?"

Number One nodded, still fiddling with his sweater. 

Klaus looked up at him from his latest unconventional sitting position. "Damn, I did not take you for a smoker. You're so… y'know, baby."

He shot Klaus a strange look, tucking the cigarette from Vanya into his pocket. "Baby?" Number One asked, confused enough to briefly forget about his father's rules. 

"Like cute and innocent and not a smoker, like."

One's cheeks turned a soft pink as he looked away from Klaus. Cute! He was cute. Someone other than his daddy thought he was cute.

"Awww," Vanya said, somewhat sarcastically as she lit her cigarette. 

Number One scratched at the burns on the inside of his wrist. This was maybe too much attention and definitely too much time around people. "Bedtime…" he mumbled under his breath. 

«What's wrong?» Ben signed at him. 

"He thinks you're losing your shit," Klaus translated poorly. 

Shaking his head, One dug his nails hard into his skin. He whimpered softly as blood appeared in the scratches but kept scratching himself. 

Vanya sighed and put her cigarette out on her wheelchair wheel. "Klaus, go get Grace."

Number One shook his head again. "No, no, I'm- I'm okay." He got to his feet awkwardly, stumbling slightly. "I just…"

"You're kind of freaking out, you sure?" She asked but One had already left the room, breath catching in his chest. 

He didn't remember how he got to the bathroom but that's where he ended up, curled up beside the toilet. Sniffling, Number One rubbed at his eyes hard. He was going to be in so much trouble when he went home again. 

He shouldn't have talked to Klaus, he shouldn't have even looked at him. One dug his nails hard into the bony and delicate inside of his wrist without the burns. Good, that was good. If he punished himself, Reginald probably wouldn't punish him as badly. Well he hoped so at least. 

Number One watched the blood appearing in his cuts with mild interest. Maybe daddy would feel bad for him and spend more time with him. He smiled at the thought and pulled his sleeves back down. 

There was a knock at the bathroom door and he looked up. "Number One, dear? Are you in there?"

"No..?" He responded but it came out more like a question. 

Grace sighed. "Could I come in?"

"I'm not here," One mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

There was silence for a few moments before the door opened and Grace stepped in. 

"Are you alright, Number One?" She asked, kneeling in front of him. 

He shook his head. "I'm making my daddy sad…"

"Because you talked to a boy?" 

One nodded, tugging his sleeves down over his hands.

Grace tucked his hair behind his ear and patted his cheek. "I'm sure you can explain that to him, sweetie."

Number One smiled slightly and rubbed at his eyes. His sleeve shifted, revealing the scratches and cuts. 

"Oh honey…" Grace sighed, taking his hand in her own and pushing up his sleeve as gently as she could. "We'll have to clean you up, hm?" She knew from her many years of dealing with damaged people that talking them through things always helped. 

"Okay," Number One agreed, letting Grace take his sweater off. 

She held back another sigh as she examined the cuts on his arm. The scratches were causing his sunburnt skin to peel and flake painful and looking at it made her heart hurt. "Do you know why you did this?" A lot of the people Grace dealt with subconsciously hurt themselves due to habit or addiction so they didn't really know why they hurt themselves. 

One shrugged, starting to dig his nails into his arm again. "If I punish myself Daddy might not."

Very gently, Grace pulled his hand away from his arm. A lecture on why his father was the scum of the earth who was the cause of addicts and one traumatized boy wasn't going to help Number One. "He's not going to punish you, One. He knows you're going through a lot and he'll understand."

He sniffled, clinging to Grace's hand. "You sure?"

"Absolutely, dear," she reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. "Now how about we get you cleaned up, alright?"

One blushed slightly. "I, um, I think I need a bath too…"

"Do you need help with that, dear?" She knew he had been treated like a child all his life, she just wasn't sure how young of a child. Although if the chart reminding Number One how to use a toilet was any indicator, he definitely needed help bathing. 

He nodded, rubbing at his cuts before Grace pulled his hand away. 

"Don't do that, sweetie. You're going to scar." She squeezed his hand gently before helping Number One to his feet. "Why don't you take off as much clothes as you're comfortable with while I go get towels, okay?"

"Okay," One agreed, starting to take off his shirt. 

It was a nice bath. Grace was gentle, didn't care that he kept his underwear on and warned him to close his eyes when she started to wash his hair. The shampoo also smelled the same as her hair so that was a plus. Even nicer than the bath, after Number One dried off, she got him a onesie right from the dryer so it was still warm and fluffy. 

He snuggled up on Grace's bedroom couch, making sure to leave a foot of space between them and hugging himself. 

"You're not good with touch, huh?" Grace asked after turning on the electric fireplace and sitting down next to him. 

Number One shrugged and went back to hugging himself. "I'm used to daddy and Pogo only. Mostly Pogo, daddy doesn't see me everyday."

"He'd leave you by yourself?"

"I had Pogo but I guess." His voice was getting softer, a telltale sign that One was worried about getting in trouble. 

"What did you eat?" Grace gave Number One a concerned look and turned toward him. 

"Daddy left stuff in the icebox, 'cept sometimes he didn't leave lots." He looked away, uncomfortable under her stare. 

"Oh, baby… what did you eat if you ran out of food?" 

"Water. I got lots of water. Sometimes I eated paper and chewed my blanket and sweater." Number One explained, chewing on the edge of his sleeve. 

Grace covered her mouth with one hand. "Paper and water aren't food! You, you know that right?"

"I know but paper is nice, cause I can colour it and then it makes my mouth the colour." One smiled, pulling his sleeve out of his mouth. "And paper and water don't make daddy sad."

"Well, real food is good for you, dear, so please eat it." She reassured him, patting his knee gently. 

Number One smiled and moved a little bit closer to her. "Do you have disney movies?"

"I think we have some, yeah."

"Can we watch cinderella?"


	10. Sick of Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for nausea and child abuse, you know how it be

Number One slept in Grace's room for his second night out of the basement. Once the fairy godmother appeared, he started nodding off. 

"Are you my fairy godmother?" One mumbled, leaning his head against Grace's shoulder. 

"Not quite, honey," she explained, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I'm just taking care of you right now."

"Like daddy?" Number One rubbed as his eyes, letting Grace put her arm around him. 

"Different than your daddy, baby. You can eat whatever you want." She poked his nose gently with her free hand. 

"Applesauce..." One trailed off, his eyes closing slowly. 

"I'll get you some applesauce, bun."

He woke up to light filtering in through the lace curtains and Pogo tucked under his arm with a quilt wrapped around them both. The quilt smelled like Grace's hair did and had the name Favio and the date December 14 2006 embroidered on the corner. Running his fingers over the words, he sat up on the couch and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand. 

"Good morning, kiddo," Grace said, glancing at him from where she sat in front of her vanity. "Did you sleep well?"

"I guess." He moved his knees up to his chest and hugged Pogo. "What's wrong with your hair?"

She laughed good-naturedly, pulling a roller out of her blonde locks. "Nothing, honey, that's just how I get my curls."

"Oh. I like your hair." One ran one hair through his own blond hair, messy and tangled from sleep. 

"Aw, thank you dear." Grace smiled at him and patted the floral stool next to her chair. "Come here."

He obeyed without hesitating, plopping down in front of her. Grace was the new person of power in his life; his new daddy. She was easy to please and perfectly lovely so Number One wanted to keep her as happy as possible. 

"Turn around, honey," Grace told him, tapping his thigh gently. 

One turned around, hugging Pogo to his chest and watching Grace in the mirror. She grabbed a brush off the vanity and began running it through his hair. 

"You've got such pretty hair, which is so surprising since you're never in the sun." Grace told him, gently working through the tangles. 

"Sometimes it breaks." He rubbed at his eyes, yawning. "That's why daddy would cut it all off."

"Aw that's too bad." She ran a hand through his hair and came away with a shocking amount in her fingers. Grace made a mental note to feed him more. 

She set the chunk of hair down on the vanity and kept working through the tangles. "Did, um, how else did your father control your eating?"

"I gotta take medicine. And I can't eat sugar or meat and stuff. Or cheese." One started playing with Pogo, not really paying attention. It took him a long time to wake up in the morning since he didn't usually eat regular meals. 

"Aw, that's no fun," Grace cooed, parting Number One's hair and fluffing it. "Not even a birthday cake?"

There was a cupcake in the icebox. Bright yellow icing frosted perfectly, plus tiny star shaped sprinkles made it almost irresistible. 

Especially since Number One hadn't eaten in over a day and yellow was his favourite colour. 

He sighed and closed the icebox door. Reginald had him on a diet that involved fasting and absolutely no sugar. Well he was never allowed sugar, but it was particularly torturous when the last thing One had eaten was peas almost 27 hours ago.

Chewing on his sweater sleeve to trick his body into thinking he was full, One curled up on the floor and closed his eyes. He was strong willed and he was going to resist food. Food wasn't worth disappointing his daddy. 

The sweater tasted like sweat and well, cloth. Definitely not as good as that cupcake would taste. 

Number One shook his head to distract himself but it made his head hurt so he stopped. Hunger was really getting to him.

He opened his eyes and sighed again, looking up at the ice box longingly. Surely his father wouldn't notice the cupcake missing, would he? And One had been so good all week that even if he didn't notice, his daddy wouldn't care. Probably. 

Chewing on his sleeve again, only anxiously instead of hungrily, Number One pulled open the icebox. He stared up at the cupcake, a bit of drool running down his chin. Hurriedly wiping it away, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Reginald wasn't coming home. 

He wasn't, of course. It was only 3:04 so there was plenty of time for One to eat in secret. Plenty of time. 

Number One covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head again, hard. No, he was going to be good. He climbed off the floor and walked to the bathroom to fill himself a glass of water. 

One stared at his reflection in the mirror as he drank the water. His cheeks looked more sunken than ever and his skin looked much paler, almost grey. That meant fasting was working, right? So it was good?

It wouldn't hurt to just look at the cupcake though. Looking was okay so he went back to sit in front of the icebox. The angle from sitting on the floor was uncomfortable so Number One put the cupcake on the table and sat down in front of it. He put his head down on the table, staring at the cupcake. This was fine. 

His eyes were glazed over and drool was running down the chin when One heard footsteps coming to the door. His daddy was back and he was drooling over a cupcake. Panicking, Number One shoved the cupcake into his mouth, chewing quickly. 

It was one of the best things he had ever tasted and the textures were just perfect but he didn't have time to savour it. One was just swallowing when Reginald opened the door. 

His father approached the table and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Were you good today?" Reginald asked, sitting down across from him. 

One nodded, trying to swallow the rest of the icing. 

"That's my boy." His father squeezed his hand gently. His own hand was smaller than Reginald's and much thinner. "You didn't eat anything, did you?"

Number One shook his head. "No, daddy. Just water."

His daddy smiled the nice smile that made his eyes crinkly and pressed a kiss to the uneven edge of One's knuckles that had broken years before. "That's good. I'll get you something good for dinner, then. You deserve it."

One smiled and his stomach clenched from pushed down guilt. "Oh, um, yay. Thank you, daddy."

"Do you have any food left in your icebox?" Reginald asked, going to open it before Number One could stop him. He looked into the icebox for a few silent seconds before turning back to look at his son. 

One shrank back into himself, fiddling with the hem of his sweater and looking up at his father nervously. 

Reginald leaned over the table, studying his son's expression. "There was a cupcake in there, wasn't there?"

"I dunno," Number One mumbled, looking at his daddy's elbow instead of his eyes. "I just drank water and coloured."

"I see. Then where did it go?"

One shrugged. "Magic?"

"Magic," Reginald repeated drily. "Are you absolutely sure you didn't eat it?"

"I'm sure." Number One pouted slightly as his stomach churned uncomfortably. "I was good, daddy."

His father narrowed his eyes briefly but then smiled at him. "Of course you were, Number One, you're a good boy."

He smiled at Reginald and got out of his chair to move closer to him. "Can you play with me now?"

"Alright, space boy." He got to his feet and followed Number One to his pile of stuffed animals. 

One was halfway through explaining the fictional world of stuffed animals when stomach clenched painfully and he whimpered audibly. What was causing this?

"Are you sick? What's wrong?" Reginald asked, pressing his hand to his son's forehead. 

"My stomach hurts," Number One mumbled before he felt another dull pain in his stomach. "Really bad…"

"Oh poor baby." His father patted his cheek gently and kissed One's forehead. "I'm sure it's just from not eating today."

From not eating? Number One's thoughts landed on the cupcake as he coughed hard, his throat feeling unusually tight and dry. "Oh. Um, that makes sense."

"Your throat sounds awful though, I'll get you some water." Reginald got to his feet and left for the bathroom. 

One sniffled, rubbing at his eyes which had started tearing up. He wasn't sad though. Well he was a little bit sad but not enough to cry. Number One had tried sugar and stuff before and it had never hurt this badly before. 

Reginald sat down in front of One and handed him the glass of water before dabbing at his son's eyes. "You're fine, Number One. Don't cry."

He nodded and took a sip of water but for some reason he couldn't swallow it. One coughed again, water spilling out of his mouth. 

His father sighed and took the water away from him. "You're making a mess." He wiped One's face and pulled him into his arms. 

"I'm sorry," Number One sniffled, leaning his head against Reginald's shoulder. "I can't swallow I think."

"Poor thing." His father slid his hand into One's shirt and started rubbing his stomach. 

He coughed hard and snuggled up against him. "This didn't happen before," Number One said, nuzzling his head into Reginald's chest. "Not the last time I had s- my last diet- ow!"

His father's nails dug hard into his stomach. "You ate that cake, didn't you?"

One squirmed, trying to get out of Reginald's grip until both his arms were grabbed hard. "Daddy, I-" he cut himself off with a grating cough. 

"You did." His father got to his feet, basically dropping Number One onto the floor. "You disobeyed me and you lied to me."

One sniffled, now actually tearing up. "I just, I got hungry…"

"You couldn't wait a few hours? You just had to be difficult and greedy, didn't you?" 

"I'm not, I didn't!" He protested, hot tears of shame running down his cheeks. Doubling over in pain, One had started dry heaving and drooling slightly. 

Reginald watched him for a minute or so, until Number One stopped hacking and stumbled over an apology. He crouched down next to the shaking boy and pushed his blond hair off his sweaty forehead. "I think that's enough punishment for you." 

One sniffled as his father carried him to his bed and tucked him into bed. "I'm sorry daddy."

"I know, Number One, I know." Reginald dabbed at Number One's mouth and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I think you're allergic to sugar, hm?"

"Number One, honey? Are you with me?" Grace asked, tapping his hand gently. 

One looked up at her, coming out of his dissociation. "What?"

"I asked if you could eat birthday cake, honey."

"Oh no, I'm allergic. Makes me shaky and stuff," he explained, feeling sick at the thought. 

"Aw, that's too bad, baby." She tucked his hair behind his ear and booped his nose. "How about I make you some breakfast?"


	11. Little Mr Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regular sex improves your memory, apparently. Happy new year, y'all I can't wait for what comes to us in 1999

Five liked his schedules. He liked order and consistency in his life. He went to bed at 8 pm every night, ate the same food at the same time everyday and only let his mother touch him. 

Above all things, Five enjoyed privacy and hated surprises. 

He also liked plain waffles which he was currently eating for breakfast, as per usual. They were warm enough to imitate human contact and plain enough to overwhelm his sensory disorder. They were normal and not surprising. 

Five checked the clock on the kitchen wall. Half past seven. Grace would be here shortly, he should set the table. He finished his waffles and set out Grace's usual tea and toast at her usual seat before sitting back down. 

The kitchen door unlocked and Five looked up brightly. Grace walked in as per usual and he smiled until he noticed she was followed. 

A blond boy a little shorter than Grace was standing awkwardly behind her and chewing on his onesie sleeve. He peeked over her shoulder at Five before hunching back into himself. 

Grace fluttered over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Good morning, Favio!"

Five scowled and squirmed away. "It's Five, Grace."

She pulled away and smiled. "Of course Five, I'm sorry. And you can call me mom, dear. 

"Okay Grace." He pointed at the blond boy. "What is he doing here?"

The boy flinched and shrunk away before Grace went back to him. She squeezed his shoulders and smiled. "This is Number One, he's going to be staying here for a while, okay?"

No, absolutely not. This was not okay. This was wrong and awful. Five shot One a look that could kill and got to his feet, walking towards him. 

"Five, be nice," Grace warned. 

"Nice? Really? Nice?" He scowled at her. "He's invading our lives! He's dissolving order!" 

"Five!" 

Five yelled something unintelligible from his voice cracking and ran out of the room. 

Number One ate his waffles in silence as Grace apologized profusely. 

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Five's… not good with change, but he'll come around." She smiled hopefully and patted his hand. 

One shook his head, sniffling. "I want to go home."

"I know, baby, I know." Grace wiped his eyes and tucked his hair behind his ear. "But it's going to be okay."

He looked up at her. "Really?"

"Of course, sweetie. Once you finish up, how about I put on a Disney movie for you, okay? Would you like that?" 

Number One nodded, smiling and Grace squeezed his hand gently. "Alright baby."

One was very agreeable and sweet when he had princess things. Well he was sweet all the time but he was extra adorable and snuggly when he was watching a Disney movie. 

"You going to be alright, honey?" Grace asked, wrapping One in a blanket with Pogo. 

"Mmhm! I took my pills and stuff so I'm okay." He snuggled up on the couch and smiled at him, seemingly forgetting what happened at breakfast with Beauty and the Beast on. 

"That's good." She smiled and patted his cheek before leaving the room. 

One hugged Pogo, chewing on his sleeve. Aurora was pretty and had long blond hair that looked fun and delightful. He ran his fingers through his own hair and came away with a clump of blond hair. Why couldn't he have pretty hair like her? Why couldn't he be a princess? 

Number One sniffled, still holding his fallen out hair. He knew why he couldn't be a princess. 

One was drawing. He was good at drawing and colouring, plus Reginald let him do both, so he knew they weren't bad things. Drawing was a lot harder than colouring but he could make pictures of whatever he wanted to colour in. 

Right now he was drawing a picture of himself in a princess dress. The dress was going to be pink or blue and he might give himself a princess crown too. 

The outside door started to open and Number One perked up. His daddy was home! He should add daddy to the drawing. Daddy would make a good king plus he had a scratchy moustache like Princess Ariel's dad.

"Daddy!" One called brightly, abandoning his drawing so he could run to hug Reginald. 

He bounced up to his father and moved in to hug him but was stopped by a hand against his chest. 

"Number One," Reginald said warningly, pushing his son back a few inches. 

One quickly folded his arms behind his back. "Sorry daddy." He wasn't supposed to ask for hugs because that made him annoying. 

His father raised one eyebrow, taking Number One's face in his hands. One beamed, resisting the urge to nuzzle his face into Reginald hands

Oh right. He was supposed to call him sir when apologizing. "I'm sorry sir, don't be mad."

Reginald studied Number One for a few more seconds before pulling him into a hug, his hands resting on his son's waist. "I can't stay mad at you, my little space boy." He pressed a kiss to the top of Number One's head. "You're too cute." 

One giggled, nuzzling his head into Reginald's chest. "Hi daddy. You smell nice."

"Do I know?" He asked lightly, running one hand through his son's short blond hair. 

"Mmhm, smells like daddy." Number One mumbled, hugging Reginald tighter. 

"Aren't you just precious?" He laughed, tilted his son's head up slightly so he could kiss his forehead. 

One beamed up at his father. "Mmhm! I am precious."

Reginald shook his head but his eyes were happy so Number One knew he wasn't mad at him. "Alright, space boy."

He giggled at his father's special nickname for him. "Love you, daddy." 

Reginald raised an eyebrow and One stretched up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Good boy."

Daddy asked for kisses and affection a lot but that was okay because he was in charge, that's why he was the daddy. 

"Are you hungry?" Reginald asked, tucking a lock of blond hair behind One's ear. 

He nodded, playing with the button on the sleeve of Daddy's fancy jacket. "I'm out of food, daddy."

"Oh dear, that is a problem. How about you work on your drawing while I get you something to eat?"

"Okay daddy!" And after another kiss from his father, One went back to his picture. 

When Reginald came back with a bag of groceries, Number One was mostly done his drawing. His dress was a bright pink, he had a very princess-y tiara and he had added his daddy beside him, but as a merman. 

"How does strawberry yoghurt for dinner sound?" Reginald asked, setting the bag on the table next to Number One's icebox. 

"That sounds nice," One said, holding his drawing in hands shaking from excitement as he eagerly awaited permission to show it. 

His father glanced up at the fluttering paper. "What's that?"

Number One beamed at his father, holding out the drawing. "I drawed it."

"You drew it, Number One," Reginald corrected, taking the drawing from his son. "Explain it to me."

One pointed at different parts of the drawing. "That's you, but a mermaid king and that's Pogo but with wings and-"

"Is that you in the dress, then?" His father asked, cutting across him. 

Number One nodded quickly, not picking up on the disappointed tone his daddy had switched to. "Mmhm! I'm a princess there and I was going to make the dress blue but-"

Reginald held up his hand after putting down the drawing and One fell silent, fiddling with his sleeve awkwardly. 

"You're not a princess, Number One."

"Yeah, but you're not really a mer-"

"Do not interrupt me." His father's voice had gone from disappointed to the scary quiet that made One's stomach hurt. 

When he was sure Number One would stay silent, Reginald continued. "You can't be a princess because you're a boy, Number One and this-" he held up the drawing "- isn't possible for you, do you understand?"

One nodded, staring at the floor so his father couldn't see that he had started crying. "I just like the dress, sir," he sniffled. "Can I just wear a dress?"

Reginald sighed, turning his son's face up with one hand and wiping his tears away with the other. "Little boys don't wear dresses, dear. You're my little boy, aren't you?"

Number One nodded and sniffled again. "Are you mad at me, sir?"

"No, sweetheart. You didn't know." His father reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. "You're still young."

One tried counting his age on his fingers but he didn't have enough. "Twenty two is still little?"

Reginald kissed his forehead. "Still little, Number One. You're still a little boy."

"Your little boy," he added. 

"My little boy," his father agreed, running his hands up and down One's arms. "Now how about we forget about dresses and get you some yoghurt?"

His son nodded quickly and plopped down at the small folding table, the chair creaking under him. 

"Oh dear. Might have to lose some weight, hm?" Reginald chuckled, setting down an individual container of strawberry yoghurt and a spoon down in front of Number One. 

His son huffed, pulling the top off his yoghurt and sticking his spoon into it. "I don't like diets, daddy."

"I know, space boy," His father said, wiping a bit of yoghurt off Number One's cheek. "But it'll be good for you."

"Not a lemonade one again," One added through a mouthful of yoghurt. 

"Definitely not. Ugh, you ruined such a sweet looking pair of shorts on that lemonade cleanse," Reginald reminisced, clucking his tongue and tapping his fingers on the table.

Number One felt his face heat up and looked down at his yoghurt. He didn't know lemonade would run through his stomach so quickly, so it wasn't really his fault.


	12. Doctors Won't Read Your Future

Diego had fucked up. He kind of knew that the moment the idea came to him but of course he went through with it. Eudora would call him a himbo. His father would call him an idiot. 

And he had, multiple times. He still was. 

"I swear to God, you- you-" Inspector Lupo slammed a hand on the squad car steering wheel once they reached a red light. 

"Picture the word in your head," Diego mimicked his speech therapist. 

His father shot him a look. "Boy, don't you talk back to me."

"You want an apology?" He asked, dropping his sunglasses back on. "Is that what you want?"

"I want you to stop f- to stop breaking your damn curfews, Diego." Lupo huffed, pulling a cigarette out of his duster's pocket while he started driving again. 

"Thought you quit smoking." 

"I'm stressed, boy. You mind your own mess," His father snapped. 

"I was eighteen minutes late!" Diego rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the backseat window. 

Lupo sighed, lighting his cigarette. "You're still breaking parole. You're grown, Topolino, you need to get it together."

"I know, I know."

"Do you?" He looked at Diego in the rearview mirror. "Because you keep making the same mistakes. You need to go to your therapy sessions and stay home after curfew."

Diego tuned out Lupo's lecture until he heard "What does your mother think?"

"Since when have you cared what mom thinks? Isn't that why she left you?" 

His father's hands tightened on the steering wheel and he stayed silent for the rest of the drive. 

Grace got the call a little while after Five came to talk to her. 

"I'm sorry I yelled," he mumbled, staring at the floor. 

She sighed and straightened the part in his hair. "It's not me you should be apologizing to, dear."

"I don't wanna talk to him." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why can't he leave? Everyone else leaves."

Grace crouched down to her son's height. "It's different for him, honey."

Five scowled. "Because he sleeps in your room, with you. He's ruining things."

"No he's not, Five. I'll get him his own room, okay? Will that make you feel better?"

He sighed exaggeratedly. "Grace, he'll fuck-"

"Language!" She corrected quickly. 

Five rolled his eyes. "Fine. He'll mess things up no matter where he is. If we're the Catholic Church, he's Martin Luther so why can't he leave?"

Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning to him. "Referencing historical events doesn't make your argument better, young man."

He huffed and flopped onto her bed, burying his face into the blanket. Grace watched him for a few seconds before sitting down next to him. "Remember where you lived before you came to stay with me?" She asked softly. 

Five lay there in silence before sitting up and leaning his head into Grace's shoulder. "Yes…" Of course he remembered. He wasn't going to forget that. 

She took his hand and pressed a kiss to the foundation covered tattoo on his wrist. "Number One's father is like those people, baby. That's why he can't go home."

"Oh." He rubbed at his eyes before snuggling into Grace. "I don't want him to go there."

"I know, honey, I know." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "No one's going there."

The phone on Grace's bedside table started ringing and she shifted Five so she could grab the phone. "Hargreeves Home for the Misled, how can I help you?" 

Five looked up to see her break into a wide smile that wasn't her normal customer service style one. "Hi sweetheart," she cooed, adjusting her curls with her free hand even though the person she was talking to couldn't see her. 

"Oh no, Diego broke curfew? I'm guessing he needs a place to stay with security and structure?" She laughed lightly and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Of course, you can bring him right over."

After Grace hung up, Five looked up at her. "Who was that?"

"Just… ah, just someone, baby." She looked distracted. "Why don't you go play with Vanya? I need to schedule a doctor's appointment."

He frowned. "Why would I do that? Can I watch Coraline on the big TV?"

"Sure honey, just have fun." Grace pressed a kiss to his head. 

"Cool." Five wiggled out of her arms and left the room, straightening his clothes. Grace's hugs were nice but really messed up his clothes. At least she was happy though, it was always nice when she was happy. 

After scheduling his doctor's appointment, Grace went to wake up Number One. In her opinion, it was too late to be sleeping but he got tired quickly and liked napping. Plus he looked very cute while sleeping, almost like a baby. 

He was curled up on the living room couch with his head tucked into his stuffed Pogo, chewing on his sleeve. Grace smiled, wrapping the blanket tighter around him.

One snuffled in his sleep, nuzzling his head into her hand. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and moved her hand away to rub his shoulder. "Number One? It's time to get up."

He whined and squirmed away, pulling the blanket over his head. "Daddyyyy. I'm tireddddd."

Grace patted his hip. "I'm not your daddy, baby."

One peeked over the edge of his blanket. "Oh. Hi Grace."

"Hi honey. I got you a doctor's appointment this week so you'll need to get up early for that, okay?" She smiled and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. 

"Oh okay. Is he going to read my cards?"

Grace blinked. "Why would the doctor do that?"

"Like the doctor from the princess frog."

She held back a laugh. "Baby, that's- he's not a medical doctor. I'm taking you to a medical doctor. An actual doctor."

One hugged Pogo tightly. "Daddy says doctors are evil and bad and are going to take my body parts."

"Oh honey-" she pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back. "No one's going to take your body parts, Number One. And I'll be there the whole time, okay?"

"Okay dad- okay Grace."


	13. Tiny Teddy Bear

Number One didn't have shoes. He never had a reason to have shoes since he never left his house before but now this was a problem. Obviously he didn't know what his shoe size was so Grace had the rest of her wards check their shoes for ones that would fit him. 

Since Klaus didn't wear shoes most of the time because he didn't want to be "chained to this mortal coil," One tried on Vanya's pink bat creepers which surprisingly fit. 

"How do you walk in these?" He asked, stumbling as he tried to stand. 

She raised her eyebrows, gesturing at her wheelchair. "Bro."

One opened his mouth and closed it. "Sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo. Now is teddy bear pants and an aristocats sweater the fit we wearing to the doctor or what?" 

He pulled out his sweater and looked down at it. "What's wrong with it?"

"They don't match the shoes." Vanya said, looking him up and down. "Do the shoes fit?"

One nodded and plopped down on her bed. "Should I change?"

Vanya flipped open his suitcase, digging through it. She pulled out a baby blue sweater with daisies on it and kept digging through it. "Man, you don't got any good pants. Go get some of mine, bottom drawer."

"Okay!" He climbed off the bed and opened the dresser drawer. "What should I wear?"

"Something that don't got teddies on them."

Ten minutes later, Vanya had made him a new outfit and sent him out to see Grace. 

"Aww, look at you!" She cooed, pressing a boop to One's nose. "You're almost as tall as me now!"

He giggled. "I'm tall!"

Grace beamed and tucked his hair behind his ears. "You ready to go, baby?" 

"Um okay." The doctor wasn't going to hurt him, Grace promised so he was going to be okay. 

She helped him into the car and buckled him into the backseat before getting into the driver's side. "They're not going to hurt you, baby. And I got you a female doctor so it's okay if you talk to her."

One nodded, playing with the hem of his shirt. He didn't like the jeans Vanya let him wear or any jeans, really. Going to the doctor sounded scary and bad but he trusted Grace. She was nice and reminded him of daddy except softer and shorter. 

Number One wasn't sure when he fell asleep but when Grace gently shook him awake, he realized they were at the hospital. He hugged himself. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, honey." She held her hand out to him and he begrudgingly took it, following Grace out of the car and to the hospital doors. 

The hospital had too many people. Number One had never seen so many people or so many different people. Grace had to remind him not to stare at the black girl with foot long pink hair hooked up to an IV. 

"Is she a princess?" One asked, still staring. 

"Not every girl is a princess, dear."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why not?"

She laughed lightly and didn't answer. 

The walk to the ward his appointment was in was too far away. Number One wasn't used to shoes, walking or people, which made the walk even worse and more tiring. He yawned, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. 

"Honey, you just had a nap," Grace observed. 

"My feet hurt and I'm sleepy again," he mumbled. 

She sighed and squeezed his hand. "You're okay, baby. You'll sit down when you're at her office."

"Can I sleep when we go home?" 

Grace patted his arm when they approached a door with teddy bears on it. "See? We're here."

Number One perked up at the sight of teddy bears and followed Grace through the door, clinging to her arm. There was a woman sitting behind a desk covered in more teddy bears and she looked up when they entered the room. 

"Grace Hargreeves and company?" She asked, popping a bubblegum bubble. 

Number One stepped behind Grace. This woman was scary looking and had long spooky nails.

Grace smiled her customer service smile and approached the desk. "Yeah, hi, we're here to see Dr Terminal."

She tapped her scary fingers on the computer keyboard for a few seconds. "Uh huh. Room 5 down the hall," the secretary said, blowing a bubble and cracking it. 

One winced and quickly followed Grace down the hallway. "Is Dr… um, Terminal scary?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "No, baby, she's sweet. You'll be okay."

"Okay," Number One agreed, not totally satisfied with her answer. 

Dr Terminal was a bit scary. She was at least 6'3, had a metal arm and black hair that reached halfway down her back which contrasted starkly with her nearly white skin. 

"Hi miss Hargreeves. Or is it mrs now?" Dr Terminal asked Grace, smiling slightly. 

She laughed and followed Dr Terminal into the examination room, still holding One's hand. "Still Miss, doctor."

"This is Number One?" 

One stepped behind Grace, clinging to her arm. 

She sighed and extracted his hands off her. "Yes, that's- honey don't grab."

Dr Terminal smiled understandingly, crouching down to his height. "I'm not going to hurt you, Number One."

"Okay…" he mumbled, stepping out from behind Grace. 

"Oh you've got such pretty brown eyes," Dr Terminal said and he smiled at her. "I'm just going to check you over, make sure you're okay, alright?" 

One nodded, fiddling with his sweater sleeve. 

"Great, could you get on the table for me?" She patted the weird bed table covered in paper. 

Number One decided he didn't like doctor checkups. He didn't like the crinkly paper or the light she shined in his eyes and especially not when she listened to his heart. You weren't supposed to be able to do that. 

"You're doing really good, Number One," Dr Terminal told him, pulling a bag on a pole towards the table before taking his arm. "I'm going to take your blood now, alright?"

"I need my blood though…" One said, trying to pull his arm away. 

Grace sighed and set down her magazine. "Honey, she's not going to take all of it."

Dr Terminal nodded. "Barely a spoonful. Have you ever gotten a needle?"

Number One nodded. "Mmhm! Lots."

Both of the women stared at him for a few seconds before the doctor spoke up. "Alrighty, we're going to do a drug test too."

Grace nodded hurriedly. "Yes, absolutely. And I'd like you to screen his medication too."

One didn't know what that meant and rubbed at his eyes as Dr Terminal rolled up his sleeve. "It's going to pinch a bit."

He was fine with the blood test, scandalized by peeing in a cup to give to her and confused about why they wanted to look at his medicine. 

"Why do I need to take my sweater off?" One asked, pulling his sleeves down over his hands. 

"We need to do an allergy test on you, okay? Your arms have been through too much so we'll have to do them on your back instead." Dr Terminal told him after she finished labeling his samples and medication.

He hesitated before pulling his shirt off. The doctor winced, pressing a hand to his very apparent ribs. 

"You're so little…"


	14. Cat Boy the Babysitter

Like most mentally ill people, especially ones with a low pain tolerance Number One had cried a lot in a doctor's office. Dr Terminal gave him weird looks and touched his stomach too much before doing the allergy test, which hurt very much. 

So, so many needles in the only soft parts of his back while he was shirtless in front of a very, very scary woman with a metal arm. She'd written on his back too, labeling and examining the effects of the needles.

The worst part was Grace leaving halfway through the test and left him alone with Dr Terminal and her scary metal hand. And her scary metal needles.

He sniffled, curling up in his hospital gown and resisting the urge to scratch his back. Dr Terminal had called someone to pick him up but it wasn't going to be Grace and it was going to be a while. 

Number One rubbed at his eyes and climbed off the bed to put his shoes back on. He stumbled and sank to the floor. Too much blood and pain today, much too much. 

One hugged himself until it hurt so he stopped and started playing with the laces on the shoes. There was a knock on the door and he looked up. 

The door opened and a blond boy with a black eye patch and leopard print pants walked in. "One?" 

Number One hunched his shoulders and hugged his sweater. "Hi."

"Hey, I'm Diego." The boy crouched down in front of him. "You okay, buddy?" He noticed the array of hives on One's back and offered his hand to him. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

He nodded and let Diego scooped him up. "Dang, you weigh less than Dora. You're like a muffin."

Number One hugged his shoes and leaned his head against Diego's shoulder. He hadn't been carried like this in years and it reminded him of when he was little enough to be picked up by his daddy. 

"The allergy tests are always the worst," Diego observed, picking up One's shoes with his free hand and shifting his hold on him. 

Nodding, One wrapped his arms around Diego's neck and clung to him. 

He spent the ride home in silence while Diego played some confusing music on his phone and asked him questions until it was apparent he wasn't going to answer. After a few minutes, One drifted to sleep with his cheek pressed against the window. 

"Why the fuck are we watching blade again?" An annoyed girl's voice asked. 

"Because I like Blade. He's relatable." A male voice responded. 

"Wh- how is a vampire hunter relatable?" 

"Well for starters, we're both mixed-"

"He's half vampire!"

"And I'm half white, pretty much the same thing."

Number One opened his eyes and rubbed at them. He was wrapped in a fluffy blanket that upon further inspection, had a picture of a blonde girl with not very much clothing and leaves instead of a shirt.

Diego glanced over at him with his remaining left eye. "Wakey wakey. How's your back?" He asked, throwing a t-shirt onto the bed. "Grace is washing the gown before returning it."

One took the shirt and said nothing as he pulled it on. 

"He doesn't talk to boys," Vanya supplied, pausing the movie playing on the duct taped Barbie box tv. "You okay, One?"

He nodded. "Just kind of hungry."

Diego threw a bag of animal crackers onto the bed too. "Those aren't edibles. I'm pretty sure."

Vanya rolled her eyes and kicked him. "You don't even like weed, you just think it makes you look cool."

Number One watched them interact, slowly eating the animal crackers. He still wasn't used to not all talking being directed at him and not being in most conversations. 

Diego plopped onto the bed next to One, making the bed shake slightly. "So do you do heroin?" 

He pulled the blanket over his head and hugged himself. No boys, no talking. No more. 

Vanya smacked Diego's knee. "Still doesn't talk to boys."

One peeked out of the blanket. He wanted to hold someone's hand and he wanted to go back to bed. The blanket smelled weird. Why did the blanket smell weird?

Diego reached out and poked Number One's nose. He squeaked and pulled the blanket over his head again. "This kid doesn't do heroin."

"He's older than you." 

"Nah, he's baby." Diego corrected. 

Klaus had called him baby. Baby sounded nice. One liked this.

"You wanna watch treasure planet?" Diego asked, pulling the blanket off One's head. 

He didn't know what treasure planet was but it sounded interesting. Vanya rolled her eyes and wheeled herself out of the room. "I'm gonna smoke with Klaus, have fun losers."

One hesitated before nodding and looking away from Diego. 

"Cool. You're like a little kid, huh?" He asked, taking Blade out of the DVD player and replaced it with Treasure Planet. 

Number One shrugged and curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Diego sat down next to him and ruffled his hair. "You are, kind of." His hand came away with a clump of cracked hair. "Cool, cool, that's… that's horrifying."

One pouted and touched Diego's hair. "Your hair is nicer," he huffed. 

He smiled and pulled his hair up and back to show his undercut shaved into leopard print. "Yeah, it's dope."

Number One giggled and rubbed at Diego's hair. "Cat boy."

"Like captain Amelia?"

One nodded, curling up against Diego's chest. He wasn't really a boy. Eudora trusted him and he smelled like the blanket. 

He fell asleep halfway through the movie with Diego's sweater in his mouth, drooling slightly. Diego cringed and peeled One off him. "Gross. Gross, gross, gross."

He pushed him away and Number One flopped onto the floor with a shockingly loud thunk. And sure, maybe that was a little mean but this was Diego's good sweater. It didn't even have armpit holes in it and now it was all gross and drool-y. He hadn't signed up to be a babysitter to mental ill people, Grace had.


	15. Men are Stupid

It had taken Number One around a week to get used to his new normal. He shared a bedroom with Ben (and Pogo) instead of sleeping on Grace's couch, ate an adequate amount of food and talked to Vanya and Grace a lot more than usual. He still slept most of the day but they could work on that. 

After reading a book about eating disorders, Grace started feeding One more meals spread throughout the day to make sure he ate. She tried to make sure he always had food on him whenever he got hungry and tried to check his weight everyday. 93 pounds was not enough for an adult man to weigh, even if he didn't act like an adult. 

Making sure he gained weight also involved feeding Number One sugar. The allergy test came back and confirmed that he wasn't allergic to sugar, just certain medications and scented laundry detergent. His father obviously lied to Number One but that wasn't surprising when he never let him leave the house. 

"What's your favorite princess?" One asked, looking up from his drawing and Oreos. 

Grace sat down in front of him and booped his nose. "You."

He giggled and looked away, blushing. "I'm not- I'm a boy, Grace."

"Boys can be princesses, honey." She patted his cheek before getting up to refill his milk. 

One thought for a moment before going back to his drawing. "That's silly. Daddy said no."

"Men are stupid." Grace told him, kissing his forehead and handing One his sippy cup. 

He blinked. "Grace, that's- that's a bad word."

Number One hated dieting days. Yes, they were healthy and it made his daddy happy when he did it but they were still awful. 

One sighed, dragging his spoon through the cottage cheese. "This is stupid," he huffed. 

Reginald glanced up. "Watch your mouth and eat your food."

He scowled and dropped the spoon on the table. "I don't want to!"

His father got out of his chair and stood over him. "Behave, Number One."

"No!" One snapped before Reginald slapped him, hard. 

"Daddy!" He squeaked, holding his cheek. "That's mean!"

"No, it's called discipline." His father pulled One's hand away to examine the mark. "You misbehaved and I corrected you. Now eat your food."

Number One sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. "Okay…"

"Good." Reginald pinched his cheek roughly before running his fingers over the bruise. Due to his small size and pale skin he bruised much easier. 

The blond teenager picked up his spoon again, still sniffling and not looking at his father. He wasn't going to apologise because he didn't think he had done anything wrong. Cottage cheese was still stupid. 

"Not really, honey," Grace said, interrupting Number One's train of thought. "There's much worse words." 

"Is daddy really stupid?" One mumbled, chewing his nail. Daddy wasn't supposed to be stupid, daddy was supposed to be smart and take care of him. But Grace took care of him now. 

"Did he ever give you Oreos and waffles?" She asked, giving him another oreo. 

"No." He twisted the oreo and licked out the cream filling. "I like Oreos."

"You just lick the icing out," Five huffed, sitting down at the table. "You don't even eat them, Luther."

That wasn't his name so Number One ignored him and licked out another Oreo, icing smearing on his cheek. "Grace, can I have a nap?"

"Honey, it's not even noon," she said, setting a star shaped grilled cheese down in front of Five. "You can't be tired already."

One rubbed at his eyes. "My medicines make me sleepy. Can I go to sleep?"

"Not yet. How about you go watch a movie with Five?" 

Five scowled and bit into his sandwich. "I'm going to watch the Grudge with Ben and Klaus. Why don't you go harass the Renaissance peasants instead?"

"Language!" Grace corrected, frowning slightly. "Alright, how about I read you a story then, One?" 

He smiled and took a sip of his milk. "Sleeping beauty?" 

"Sure, baby."

Number One liked living with Grace. Five still hated him, Ben tried to hurt himself in his sleep, Diego was nice sometimes and Klaus was… indescribably Klaus. But Grace and Vanya made up for the others being weird, and of course he always had Pogo. 

One smiled to himself and hugged Pogo to his chest, snuggling up against Grace on her bedroom couch while she opened the fairy tale book. "I love you."

Grace smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I love you too baby."

He nuzzled his head against her and she ruffled his hair before stopping. A clump of cracked blond hair came away between her fingers and Grace made a mental note to get him some repairing shampoo. Blond hair was so cute on little boys and- well Number One wasn't really a little boy but he was sweetie and she loved him.

Squeezing his hand in hers, she wiped at her eyes with her free hand. Grace had wanted her own child her entire life and with his blond hair, brown eyes and childlike personality, Number One looked like hers. 

"Once upon a time a beautiful princess was born," Grace started. 

One giggled and curled up against her. "Me."

Grace's heart swelled. "You're the beautiful princess?"

He nodded and leaned his head against her chest. "I'm a princess."

Beaming, Grace pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Yes you are, sweetie. A beautiful princess." 

One smiled up at her after rubbing at his nose with his sleeve and sniffling. "Can I get a princess dress…? Do princesses get dresses?"

"Use a tissue, baby," she said, adjusting how she sat so Number One would be more comfortable. "And of course, we can go shopping this weekend." Grace didn't know why that warmed her heart so much. He was breaking down the toxic masculinity bullshit his father had dumped on him, slowly but surely.

He hesitated before pressing a kiss to her cheek and leaning his head across her lap. "Thank you, daddy."

Grace's smile tightened and she patted his head awkwardly. "I'm not- alright, baby."

Number One fell asleep on her lap when she had gotten to the part about the spindle, drooling as usual. Sighing, Grace scooped him up so she could carry him upstairs to his bedroom. He snuffled in his sleep and nuzzled his head into Grace's chest like a tired kitten.

"Bedtime for baby," she cooed, pressing a kiss to One's nose as she set him down in his bed. 

Ben looked up from where he was sitting on his bed and Grace jumped. "Honey, don't sit in the dark!"

Ben pulled his hood up and signed "blood" at Grace. 

She crouched down in front of him. "Dear what's wrong?"

He pointed at One and repeated himself. Grace glanced over at him and sighed when she noticed the blood tinged drool on his face. "Oh honey…"


	16. Allison, Your New Daddy

Number One wasn't sure why Grace and Dr Terminal had panicked. He felt completely normal, he just sometimes had random nosebleeds or coughed up blood. As long as One got all the blood out so he wouldn't choke, nothing bad happened. It was just a side effect of his medicine, they were getting upset over nothing. 

He didn't understand why Grace cried so much on the way to the hospital, why she kept holding his hand or why Dr Terminal seemed so concerned. He also didn't want another, much faster drug and blood test and wasn't sure why Grace cried again. Number One was tired, hungry and just wanted to go home. 

"I'm hungry," he mumbled, leaning his head against Grace. 

"I know, baby, I know," she said shakily, dabbing at her eyes. "Just a few more minutes and then we can go home."

Number One coughed and wiped blood off his mouth. "Okay…"

Dr Terminal came back into the examination room. "Grace? Could I speak to you?"

"Yes, of course." She nodded and got to her feet, hands shaking slightly as she followed the doctor into the other room. 

One was only alone in silence for a minute or so before he heard Grace panicking through the wall. 

"Green? How is it green? It's not supposed to be green!" She yelled, tears palpable in her voice. 

Whining softly, Number One covered his ears. He didn't like yelling. Daddy only yelled when he made daddy mad or sad. One didn't want to make Grace mad or sad. He hadn't yet and he wanted to keep it that way forever and ever. He pulled his sweater over his ears and cried until Grace came back. 

"Sweetheart? Are you-" she saw that he was crying and instantly went to comfort him, rubbing One's back gently. "Shhh, baby, it'll be okay. You're going to be alright."

"I'm- I'm sorry," Number One finally managed to choke out, wiping his eyes. "Don't be mad."

"Oh-" she covered her mouth with her hand before hugging him again. "I'm not mad at you, baby. I'm never mad at you. Dr Terminal wants to ask you some questions, okay?"

He nodded and clung to Grace as Dr Terminal sat down in front of them. "Hi there, Number One."

"Hi," he mumbled. 

"Have you eaten anything blue, green or white you've found on the floor? Like under beds or in the basement?" She asked, tapping a pen on her clipboard. 

One shook his head. He had only eaten what Grace gave him. 

Dr Terminal made a note. "How about touching anything like that? Have you touched any blue or green pellets or powder?" 

He shook his head again and started fiddling with his hair until the chunk came out in his hands. 

"How long have you been losing hair?" 

One thought for a moment, fiddling with his sleeves. "Um, I dunno. A while."

"The whole time you've been with Grace?" Dr Terminal asked, glancing at her. 

Grace nodded, hugging Number One. "I didn't- I didn't think it was a problem."

He fell asleep in the doctor's office and woke up tucked into Grace's bed with Pogo. There was a note on the pillow in her handwriting but One couldn't read it so he snuggled Pogo into a hug and lay back down in bed. He stayed there, curled up until the door opened and a girl he had never seen before walked in. 

"Oh hi, I didn't expect you to be up yet." She smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked like princess Tiana but with purple hair instead. 

Number One scooched closer to her and reached out to touch her cheek. "Princess?"

"You're adorable, Number One."

He beamed at her. "Are you my new daddy?"

"Um, no, I'm Allison," she said, smiling awkwardly. "I'm a nurse, and I'm going to take care of you, alright?"

"Purple," One mumbled, reaching for her hair. 

She took his hand and moved it to his lap. "Yeah, my hair's purple, kiddo. You've never met a black girl, have you?"

He shook his head. "Nope. You look like princess Tiana." 

Allison smiled and poked his nose. "You're a nice man. Silly, but nice."

"I'm a little boy," One giggled and coughed, wiping blood off his mouth. 

She sighed and wiped at his mouth with a tissue. "You're a grown up, One."

He shook his head and squirmed away. "I'm baby."

"Sure, you're baby." She tucked his hair behind his ear and poked his nose. 

One giggled and hugged Pogo to his chest. "Baby," he mumbled. "Baby, baby boy."

"Were you always like this or did eating rat poison break your brain?" Allison asked, frowning slightly. 

He pouted. "I'm not brain broken, I'm a little boy."

She sighed and tied her hair back. "I'm going to get you your antibiotics and some apple juice, okay?" 

One snuggled into Grace's pillow and hugged Pogo. His brain wasn't broken, right? He was okay, he was just a little boy. 

Number One was just finishing up breakfast when his father entered the room. He perked up as usual. "Hi daddy!" One said through a mouthful of toast. 

Reginald smiled slightly and a bit condescendingly. "Swallow your food before you speak, Number One."

He quickly swallowed and smiled up at his daddy. "I missed you."

Reginald pushed back Number One's bangs so he could press a kiss to his forehead. "You saw twenty minutes ago, silly thing."

He blushed slightly and fiddled with his sweater's hem. "Still missed you."

"Aw." His father pinched his cheek, hard. 

Number One knew it was a sign of love so he forced a smile on his face instead of wincing. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in when Reginald released him and sat down in the reading armchair, setting a paper bag on the side table. 

"Did you get me a present?" One asked brightly, resisting the urge to rub at his cheek. 

Reginald raised an eyebrow. "Do you deserve a present, dearest?"

Number One climbed out of his chair and plopped down in front of his father. "Yes…?"

He patted his thigh, signaling for One to sit on his lap. Number One obliged, nuzzling his head into his father's chest. "I love you daddy."

Reginald made a noncommittal noise in his throat and slid his arms around his son. "You're lovely, you know that?" 

One giggled and pressed a kiss to his father's cheek. "You're more loveliest-er," he said, stumbled over his words. 

"Silly thing." He rubbed his thumb over the bruise forming on Number One's cheek. 

"Not silly, daddy," One protested, pressing his head into Reginald's chest. 

"You are, Number One. You write your Bs and Rs backwards." He tucked his son's hair behind his ear. 

Number One pouted and untucked his hair. "I'm smart for being twenty two though."

Reginald pressed a kiss to One's forehead. "You're barely functional. You need help in the bathroom, space boy."


	17. Dolly Hargreeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace is an adult woman with an adult relationship and Five is not having healthy emotions
> 
> Also green piss

"I'm worried about Number One," Grace finally said, crossing her arms over the blanket covering her chest. 

The drug tests and blood tests were stressing her out so much she was getting stress acne. Stress acne! In her fifties! It made sense though since her skin was amazing and Number One's piss turned green from fucking rat poison. 

A large scarred hand with trigger callouses stroked her hair gently. "I know, amore, I know. But the doctors know what they're doing."

Grace sighed and leaned her head against Lupo's chest. "He coughed up blood and he didn't care. I don't even think I want to know what he's been through."

He draped his arms around her, tracing the curve of Grace's shoulder with his fingers. "He's been through hell, but I know you'll fix him up. You ain't ever met a person you couldn't help."

Smiling slightly, she squeezed Lupo's hand. "Thanks honey. One's just- I just want him to always be safe and happy."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I know, doll, you're always pushing yourself to be better. Sometimes I think you're Diego's real bio mom, since you act so much like him."

Grace laughed lightly and patted Lupo's stomach. "Aren't you his biological mother, technically?"

He huffed and moved her arm. "Is that a microaggression, Hargreeves?"

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Hush. I love you."

"You're lucky you're so pretty." Lupo sighed and tucked Grace's hair behind her ear. 

She leaned in to kiss him again but was distracted by her bedroom phone ringing. "Too damn early for this…" Grace mumbled, sitting up and grabbing the phone. "Hello?" 

"You have a call from the Umbrella Correctional Center, would you like to accept?" A disappointed sounding woman with a new jersey accent asked. 

She thought for a moment. Who did she know in Umbrella Correctional? Diego had spent a few days in there for a correctional seminar but he was currently sleeping in Vanya's second wheelchair with no pants on. So that meant no one. "Uh sure, I'll accept."

There was the sound of a phone reconnecting and a dial up click. 

"Hello?" Grace asked in her best customer service voice. 

"Hello sweetheart, I've been missing you." A cold male voice said very creepily. 

She stared into space for a few seconds before hanging up and shivering. "God I hate men. Sorry God."

Lupo sat up and squeezed her hand. "What's wrong?" 

"Got called by a pervert." Grace grimaced and leaned her head into his chest. 

He sighed and tucked Grace's hair behind her ears. "I could trace the call, get them arrested."

She smiled and squeezed his hand back. "As much as I love your police work stuff, you don't have to. It came from Umbrella."

"Where the perverts belong," Lupo confirmed, kissing her nose.

There was a knock at the door and Grace sighed, climbing out of her bed and pulling on her robe. She rubbed at her eyes before tying her robe around her waist and opening the door just enough to show her face. "Hello?"

Five sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. "Grace?"

She crouched down to his height. "Are you okay, baby? What's wrong?"

He hugged Grace tightly and buried his face into her shoulder. "Bad dream," Five choked out, tears running down his face. 

"Oh baby," she cooed, hugging him back. "Everything is going to be okay, my dear."

Five whimpered and clung to Grace tightly. "The lady. Bad lady."

Grace sighed and scooped him into her arms. "Let's get you some hot chocolate, alright?"

He nodded, nuzzling his head into her shoulder. "Okay."

She carried him down into the kitchen and set Five down on the countertop before turning on the kettle. "The bad lady is gone, honey. She's never coming back."

Five looked up at Grace with red puffy eyes. "She said she'd come back."

"She's lying, sweetie. The bad lady is gone forever."

He whined and scratched hard at his tattoo removal scar before Grace moved his hand away. "That's not good, honey. No hurting yourself."

Five whined harder and dug his nails into his ear, kicking his legs hard against the cabinet. He pulled his arm away from Grace and covered his other ear, wailing loudly. 

She sighed and took the kettle off the burner. "You want your Dolly? I can get you your Dolores." 

He dug his nails into his head and yanked a clump of his hair out, letting out a choked wail. Five sniffled and looked up at Grace, holding a chunk of bloody brown hair. "Dolly?"

"Yes, your Dolly. You want Dolly?" She asked, taking the hair clump gently from his hand. 

Five nodded and sniffled, still clawing at himself. "Dolly…"

Grace kissed his nose and left the kitchen for Five's room. Dolly was his emotional support… doll? Fake mom? Mannequin? Wife? Either way, she was deeply confused by Dolly but she made Five stop spiraling.

Grace finally found Dolly stuck behind the living room couch and wearing one of her dresses. Sighing, she scooped up the life sized and surprisingly lightweight doll and carried her into the kitchen. "Five, honey?" 

He looked up from the kitchen floor where he had fallen off the counter and squealed at Dolores, making grabbing hands for her. "Dolly dolly dolly-"

Grace handed Dolores to Five and he instantly started chewing on her, tears running down his face. "You're okay, baby," she said soothingly and pressed a kiss to his head. "You're safe."

He whined loudly and hugged Dolores tightly, teeth bared. Five's eyes narrowed and he scooched away from Grace, growling softly. 

"Alright, baby, you're a scary little wolf boy." Five got panicky and violent when he was scared and the bad lady made him very, very scared. Best to leave him alone when he was spiraling. 

Grace set a mug of hot chocolate next to him and trudged back to her room, readjusting her robe. She sighed loudly as she opened the door and flopped back into bed. As much as she loved her little boy, Five did have lots of trauma, PTSD, tics and what not that could be very hard to deal with. 

Grace snuggled her way back into Lupo's arms. "You alright, amore?" 

"Of course, I love my stressful little boy and all of his stressful antics." She said with a forced smile. "Love it when he calls boys I take care of Luther because he's aggressively into European history and hates change."

Lupo didn't say anything but took her hand and squeezed her hand. Grace liked that about her boyfriend, that he could comfort her without saying anything to her. She pressed a kiss to his nose. "I love you, honey."


	18. Boys Don't Marry Princes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ends with a flashback and next chapter is a flashback too, this shit is getting, uh interestingggg

Allison was a lifesaver. And not only because she was stopping Number One from eating rat poison but because she reminded everyone to take their meds, helped wash Ben and One's bloody clothes and had become his most favorite person. Whenever Allison was in a room, One was almost always right next to her. 

Grace called it cute, the rest of the residents called it weird and Allison called it her job. Number One called her Allie because he had a hard time pronouncing her name and ever since she stopped him from touching her hair, One had started treating her like Reginald. 

Everyday he had multiple drawings and pictures to give to Allison, was always prepared to do whatever she asked and wanted to be with her constantly. She obliged him, praising Number One on all of his drawings and his willingness to take his new medications, which One ate up eagerly. 

The only thing Allison didn't give him was touch. Ever since she pushed One's hand away, he stopped trying to touch her as well as anyone else. Touch was a reward that other people gave him, not something he could ask from them. And well, Number One hadn't really earned anything from anyone. 

Grace had been spending a lot more time out of the house at odd hours, leaving with smiles no one had ever seen on her so she hadn't had time to get One a dress. He didn't want to bring it up either since he probably imagined it. Number One imagined a lot of things which he knew because his daddy always reminded him of that. That's why he needed so much medication, to keep his brain functioning. 

One sighed, curling up in his blanket on the floor. It had been two weeks since he'd seen Reginald, which was almost the longest time they'd ever been apart. The only longer time was- 

Shuddering at the thought, Number One pulled his blanket over his ears and shook his head hard as if to shake the thoughts out. It somewhat worked enough to make his thoughts land on Pogo. He crawled across the bedroom floor and snuggled up by the foot of his bed with his stuffed animal, burying his face into the faux fur. 

Reginald came home when One was watching the Little Mermaid and cuddling with Pogo. He looked up at his daddy and smiled his biggest smile that showed all his missing teeth. Mostly from simply falling out but two from… other things.

"Hi daddy!" Number One chirped, eyes lighting up. 

"Good afternoon, sweetness." Reginald dropped down to One's height and kissed his forehead. 

He giggled and pressed a kiss to his father's cheek. "Good afternoon daddy."

Reginald smiled slightly and pinched his cheek. "Such a polite boy. How's my little astronaut?" 

"Good," One said, nuzzling his head into his father's chest before looking up at him. "Daddy?"

"Yes, space boy?" Reginald asked, scooping Number One into his arms. 

He giggled and hugged his father back. "You know how Ariel got to marry a prince when she was sixteen?" 

"Boys don't marry princes, Number One," Reginald said, loosening the hug and smacking One's hand gently. 

Number One pouted and leaned his head against his father's shoulder. "Not a prince, daddy, not going to marry a prince." He frowned before hitching his smile back onto his face. "Ariel got to leave the ocean and stuff when she was sixteen, remember?" 

"Yes, Number One, I have a much better memory than you do." Reginald pinched his cheek and smiled coldly. 

One nodded. "Mmhm! And I'm older than Ariel, cuz I'm nineteen so…" 

His father's fingers tightened on his cheek. "You're eighteen, Number One. Silly boy."

One pouted slightly. "Right, oops. But I'm still older than Ariel and she still left home." 

Reginald released his cheek and ran his fingers over the red mark. "Why do you want to leave me, Number One? Is this what you've always wanted?"

One clung to his father desperately. "No, no, no! Daddy no, I love you and I never want to leave you." He had started crying hard and buried his face into Reginald's chest. "I'm sorry…"

Reginald sighed and stroked One's back gently. "Shhh, Number One, shhh. You don't have to leave me, ever. You can stay here forever."

One rubbed hard at his eyes and pulled away. "I'm sorry, I just… I don't want you to be mad at me, but… I want to go outside.

He wiped his son's tears away and kissed his cheek. "I'm not mad at you, but you're still too young to leave."

"I'm a grown up!" Number One pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to go outside!" 

Sighing, Reginald moved One off his lap and got to his feet. "No. You stay home."

He huffed and got to his feet too, realizing he was much shorter than his father and trying to stand taller. "No! I want to go outside! I want to go see people!" 

Reginald glared down at him and folded his arms across his chest. "Stand down, Number One." That worked all of the time and usually made him melt into Reginald's arms. 

One crossed his arms over his chest and glared right back at him. "No. That's stupid. I'm a grown up and I'm going outside." He had never stood up to anyone in his life and was shaking slightly. 

Reginald took a step closer to One who shrunk back slightly but held his ground. "Number One."

One scowled and grabbed the handle of the door. "I'm leaving. I'm going to the surface."

"You're not a mermaid," His father corrected coldly. 

"Yes I am!" Number One yelled, walking through the door and slamming it behind him. He stood still for a moment, shaking slightly before running up the stairs and panting hard. 

One hugged himself and giggled before opening the second door, still shaking. He wasn't outside or on a beach, he was standing in a boring looking entrance hall in a boring looking house that he had never seen before. Oh dear. Was all of outside just a very big beige house with weird adult furniture? That wasn't nice. Was grass even real? Were birds real? 

Oh wait, there was another door. One sighed in relief and approached the door with shaking hands before opening it very slowly. He winced in the sunlight and quickly stepped out into the outside, clenching his fists tightly. The outside was scary looking but mostly okay, normal and smelled nice. Nicer than daddy smelled, and daddy smelled very nice. 

No, don't think about daddy. Daddy's mean and doesn't let him leave the house. Daddy's stupid. One hugged himself hard and shook his head, provoking a weird look from a lady with a dog. 

He took a deep breath and started walking down the stairs with a bit of a spring in his step. Now to find a magical prince to marry him. Or maybe not a prince because Number One was still a boy. Maybe find a princess to marry. 

One beamed and jumped down the last stair before skipping down the sidewalk. He had never had enough room to skip before! Beaming, Number One kept skipping down the sidewalk, practically dancing. He liked the outside and he liked skipping and he was a grown up so he didn't need his father anymore.


	19. Boys Will Be Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone gets their face mutilated and stuff so work

Being outside was very, very tiring. There were no beds, no stuffed animals and there were so, so many people. Number One's legs hurt so much and he needed a nap very desperately. Did Ariel feel this way when she went on land for the first time? Why was he so hungry? 

One dropped onto the ground and whined softly, hugging himself. He had never been so hungry. Well he was hungrier when he was on a water diet for two days and tried eating his hair but that was weeks ago. Raspberries would be very good right now. 

Number One huffed and got to his feet, brushing the dirt off his pants. He was fine. He could go find a prince and get some food from him, princes were always nice. One hitched a smile back onto his face and straightened his shirt. Prince time, prince time! 

Two hours later, Number One was tired and hungry and had no prince. He flopped back onto the ground and started tearing up again, rubbing hard at his face. Food tasted so good and his bed felt so nice. One sniffled, hugging himself and chewing on his sleeve. 

"Are you alright, dear?" Someone asked and Number One looked up into the eyes of a very handsome man with a nice looking beard and pretty eyes. 

"Hi," One mumbled, blushing slightly and pulling his sleeve out of his mouth. 

The man offered his hand to Number One and pulled him to his feet. "Can I interest you in something to eat?" 

He nodded and clung to the man. "Yes please. Please please please."

"Of course, my dear." 

One followed him into a nice car and sat down next to him in the backseat. "My name's Number One."

"Prince Charming," the man said, pressing a kiss to his hand. 

One giggled and tucked his hair behind his ear. "You're really Prince Charming?" 

Charming smiled and nodded. "Yes, that's my name."

Number One beamed and ran his hand over the prince's suit. The fabric felt so soft but scrunchy at the same time, his favourite texture. He blushed and hugged Prince Charming. "Are we getting married?"

Prince Charming laughed lightly and pressed a kiss to One's forehead. "After we get you some food, we could. I've always wanted to marry a boy."

Number One clapped and hugged the prince tightly, burying his face into his shoulder. "Me too. I like boys more than I like girls. Boys are pretty."

"You're pretty," Charming cooed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

One giggled, melting into the prince's arms. "I wanna get married to you."

They spent the rest of the drive snuggling in the backseat with One on the prince's lap and pressing kisses to his face. He was very, very clingy when a man showed him any affection. The prince carried him into a fancy building and set him down on a fancy princess-y couch that smelled like roses. 

One tried to sit as best like a lady as he remembered from the weird book that daddy took away from him. "So what's for food?" Welp, that's not how people talk to people. 

"Something about you seems like you like…" Charming thought for a moment. "Yoghurt? Probably strawberry?" 

Number One nodded and beamed at him. "You probably know because you're my true love, right?" 

He pressed a kiss to One's cheek. "Absolutely, sweetheart." 

The yoghurt was weird tasting but that was ignorable because he was so, so incredibly hungry and very in love. Prince Charming was gorgeous and very nice and sweet. Maybe they were different types of strawberries or different yoghurt. 

After finishing his food, Number One curled up on Charming's lap and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Are we going to get married soon?" 

"Very soon, Number One," the Prince said kindly, running his fingers through the boy's hair. "You'd look gorgeous in a wedding dress." 

One rubbed his eyes and leaned his head against Charming's chest. "I'm sleepy," he mumbled. 

"Go to sleep then," Prince Charming cooed, tucking One's hair behind his ears. 

Whispering something unintelligible, Number One buried his face into his chest. His head felt foggy and blurry like it was slammed into the door, just like when his daddy got really mad at him that one time. One wasn't sure when he had started drooling and flopped backwards onto the couch but it happened, apparently. The last thing he saw was Prince Charming smiling down at him. 

He woke up tied to a chair and feeling very, very sick. Drool was dried to the side of his face and his head hurt incredibly bad. How had he fallen asleep? 

"I think he pissed himself," one voice said. 

"I think he's dead," Prince Charming said, accompanied by the sound of chewing. "We weren't supposed to kill him, were we?" 

"No, idiot. If he dies we don't get the rest of tha money, we're just supposed to scare him maybe fuck him up. How much we getting paid anyways?" 

"Fifty grand and so much coke."

"Fifty k? How much coke?"

"So much coke. A lifetime of coke."

"If you snort enough at once, not a lot can be a lifetime supply. But yeah, that's cool."

One whined softly and squirmed in his seat, trying to get free of the ropes. He had wet himself but he really didn't want his future husband to notice that. Drool was embarrassing enough. 

The voice Number One didn't recognize laughed a kind of laugh he had never heard before making a snapping noise with their mouth. "Rise and shine, kiddo."

He opened his eyes and saw the dark concrete walls of the room he was tied up in. It was obviously underground and smelled like cleaner. There were some strange reddish brown stains on the walls and floor and most concerningly, two people wearing masks that One recognized from the Hazel and Cha Cha show. 

The one in the blue Cha Cha mask pulled it off to reveal Prince Charming's face which made One's heart drop. "Hi sweetheart," the probably not prince cooed, wiping the drool off Number One's face. "Was marriage everything you hoped and dreamed of?" 

One sniffled. "You're not a real prince…"

Prince Cha Cha pulled his mask back down. "Yeah no shit, dumbass," he barked even though he wasn't the one in the dog mask. 

Hazel cackled and lifted up their mask to take out their gum and stick it onto the wall. "All men are fucking crazy, right Cha Cha?" 

"Right, Hazel."

There was unrestrained delight in both of their voices that made them seem more than a little bit unhinged. They both lifted up their masks at the same time to take bites of identical donuts, chewing in the creepiest way Number One had ever seen anyone eat food. 

"Cha Cha, Could you get me the- yeah, that's it," Hazel said, pulling their mask down as their partner handed them a black metal stick that extended in their hand. 

One's stomach clenched in fear as he closed his tightly. He was expecting it to hurt but he wasn't expecting it to hurt as much as it did. The first blow to his stomach made him wretch in pain, tears pooling up in eyes. 

Number One let out a sob of pain and looked up at his attackers, fear visible in his eyes. 

Hazel and Cha Cha both turned to look at each other. 

"He's crying," he said. 

"After that," they said. 

"After nothing," he said. 

Hazel ran the end of the baton over the curve of Number One's jaw before biting off the end of a licorice whip. One's breath hitched and they smiled. "Pussy."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Cha Cha asked, pulling out a violently pink baseball bat from behind his back. 

"What?" 

"Beat the living shit out of him and take some teeth?" He suggested, provoking a laugh from his partner. 

"Oh Cha Cha, you animal!" Hazel crooned. "You know your way to a puppy's heart!" 

Several hours, many broken bones and several teeth removed, the cartoon animals had stopped hurting Number One. Or maybe they hadn't, that's just when he blacked out. Dark numbness was such a blessing after getting most of his bottom teeth pulled out with a pair of pliers. Dark numbness was absolutely delightful, One hoped he would stay there forever and ever. At least numbness didn't have people breaking his toes and ankles. 

Eventually the cycle of numbness and pain stopped to be replaced with a damp cloth on his face, prompting Number One to open his eyes slowly. His gaze landed on his father and he sighed in relief, though it came out harsh sounding and ragged. 

"My poor baby," Reginald said sweetly, dabbing at his forehead with the wet cloth. "My poor little boy."

One whined softly, trying to open his eyes further against the blood caked over his face. "Ddhh…"

"I'm here, space boy," he cooed, wiping the blood off his face. "I'm going to take care of you, Number One."

Reginald kept whispering sweet nothings to Number One until he lost consciousness again. 

It took months for all of One's bones to heal and so much longer for him to stop sobbing all the time and clinging to Reginald at all times. That's when his daddy put him on his medicine, changed his diet and slept with him every night until One healed. He needed as much emotional support as possible in his time of trauma, as Reginald constantly told him. Spooning was very emotionally supportive and it helped him sleep without waking up screaming. He could talk and definitely scream again after the tooth fairy gave him new magic teeth that were much prettier than his old teeth. 

Sniffling, One hugged Pogo tightly. He missed his daddy so much. More than he had ever missed anyone ever. Even more than that one time he lost Pogo for three days. 

Ben poked One's cheek for the seventh time, this time hard enough to rouse him out of his flashback. 

"Wha…?" He asked, looking up before noticing Ben. "Oh." One closed his mouth quickly. He wasn't allowed to talk to boys ever since the fake prince stole most of his teeth.


	20. The Family Won't Like This

Grace was very tired of the Umbrella Correctional Center pervert calling multiple times a day. It was the main thing she talked to Lupo about and she loved talking about her children. Her children who weren't really her children but Grace loved like her own children. 

"Why don't you just stop accepting the calls?" Lupo asked, lighting his match with his teeth before lighting his cigarette. 

"Because someone might need me there, Al," Grace huffed. "And lighting cigarettes on your dentures isn't sexy."

He rolled his eyes and took a drag on his cigarette. "It's incredibly sexy and no one can tell they're dentures."

She kissed his cheek. "No one who smokes has teeth that nice, baby."

Lupo smiled his cute scruffy salt and pepper moustache smile that made Grace's heart melt and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Does Diego know about us?" 

Grace laughed before looking up at her boyfriend and raising her eyebrows. "Oh, you were serious. Honey, he'd lose his mind."

"Really? Maria and I have been separated since he was twelve."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Diego hasn't gotten over revenge of the sith and he saw it when he was nine."

Lopu grimaced. "Topolino shouldn't have seen it that young."

"Yeah, that's why he called you darth vader for three years," she agreed, taking his free hand in hers as she sipped her coffee. 

He thought for a moment. "Does that make you a queen, then?" 

Grace smiled sweetly. "That would make Maria a very dead queen, but I appreciate the attempt." 

Laughing, Lupo squeezed her hand. "I make up for what I don't know by trying my best." 

""I make up for what I don't know by trying my best," title of your sex tape!" Vanya cackled, wheeling into the kitchen. "What's good, detective?" 

Grace quickly dropped Lupo's hand and busied herself with her coffee as he turned to Vanya. "It's Inspector and I'm not on duty right now."

She gave him a nod as she got a juice box out of the fridge. "Word, officer." 

Giving Lupo a sympathetic look, Grace got to her feet. "Is everyone okay?" She asked Vanya. "Does anyone need anything?" 

She shrugged. "Luther- uh, Number One cried on Ben because boys are evil and Klaus won't wear pants."

Sighing, Grace straightened her shirt and smiled her best mom smile. "Alright, I'll get on that," she said as she left the kitchen. 

Once she was out of earshot, Vanya looked up at Lupo. "Does Diego know?" 

He choked on his coffee. "Diego? About?" 

"Does he know that your teeth are fake?" 

Oh thank God. "Of course he does, I've had them for years. Got them when I was still a detective."

Vanya perked up. "Cool. Did they need teeth for a case? Did they fall out from dead body disease?" Her eyes lit up. "Did you catch a bullet in your teeth?" 

He took a very slow sip from his cup of coffee. "Something like that." It wasn't something like that. It was way worse and much less cool than that. 

"Cooool. Can you take your teeth out?" Vanya asked, way too happy at the prospect of an old man deconstructing his mouth. 

Lupo gave her a weird look. "Yeah, but why would I right now?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because it's freaky. You're like a haunted demon doll."

Patting Vanya's shoulder, he got to his feet. "Takes one, ya weirdo."

She beamed at Lupo and took a sip from her juice box. "Demon man."

"How's Diego?" Lupo asked, leaning against the counter as he refilled his coffee cup. 

Vanya shrugged. "He's whatever. Misses Eudora and stuff." 

They stood and sat without speaking for a few seconds until the silence was punctuated by a crash from upstairs. "Klaus! You need to wear pants!"

"That happen a lot?" Lupo asked, butting out his cigarette. "With Klaus?"

Vanya shrugged. "I guess. His brain doesn't work right." She finished her juice box, dropped it on the floor and wheeled herself out of the room. 

Grace came downstairs a few minutes later with Number One clinging to her arm. "So Klaus is going through withdrawal, which is really great," she huffed to Lupo. 

"Withdrawal's a bitch," he agreed, glancing at One. "This Reginald's boy?" 

One stepped behind Grace so only his fluffy blue socks were visible. He peeked out for a few seconds before quickly ducking back behind her. Sighing gently, Grace moved One in front of her and squeezed his shoulders supportively. 

"This is Inspector Lupo. Do you want to say hello?" Grace asked, giving One an open offer. 

"He looks like daddy," he mumbled, taking Grace's hands. 

Her smile tightened. That was a very gross thought that was going to stay in her head rent free. "All white men look the same, baby."

"Thanks Hargreeves," Lupo said in his gruff fake mad voice. 

Grace shrugged. "You know I'm right. Anyways, Number One, Inspector Lupo here is working on your father's case."

One perked up. "Daddy! Is daddy coming back?" 

Lupo glanced at Grace. "He might, but Grace is a sweetheart, so either way you'll be with someone nice, alright?" 

Frowning slightly, Number One nodded and leaned his head against Grace. "I miss daddy…" he sniffled. 

She was torn. Grace knew that Reginald was an abuse monster but One held him in such regard. It would ruin him if he knew how bad his father was. Struggling with her thoughts, Grace patted his shoulder. "I know, honey."

Lupo crouched down to Number One's height. "Wouldn't he want you to be happy, even without him?" 

One cocked his head to one side like a confused dog, thinking. That kind of made sense to him. He was dragged out of his thoughts by the phone ringing and Grace releasing his shoulders. 

"Grace Hargreeves speaking," she said in a voice that made Number One feel like he was wrapped in blankets. 

"I know who you are, Hargreeves," a male voice snapped. Despite being cold and obviously annoyed, One's heart swelled at the sound. 

"Daddy!"


	21. Meeting the Parent(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentions suicide but not like, seriously

Grace was at a loss. She wanted Number One to be happy obviously, that was one of her top priorities but Reginald was horrifying. She knew he was a criminal, she knew he hurt his son constantly and she knew that he kept One imprisoned his entire life, so why was this so hard for Grace? 

Lupo, whilst being very handsome, offered to pull rank to get Reginald's visit and call privileges revoked but she wasn't sure that was such a good idea. Grace prided herself on her aggressively sound moral compass and she didn't want to do anything that could damage it. Plus Number One was so incredibly excited to see his father again. That little boy had a way of getting into Grace's heart. 

And how badly could taking an extremely impressionable man in his late twenties with the functionality of a young child to a prison to see his abusive father go? 

Grace sighed and started stress brushing her hair, hard. Her hands shook slightly as she dragged the brush through her blonde locks, scowling at her reflection in the mirror. That only made her more annoyed as frowning accentuated what Grace called her "man like jaw." She huffed loudly and dropped her brush onto her vanity, scowling at her reflection. 

Stupid man wrinkles and stupid man face and stupid- Grace picked up her bedroom phone, dialing Lupo's number with almost exclusively muscle memory. "Baby I want to fight someone."

There was a tired old man grunting noise and a yawn. "Mmh?" Lupo cut his unintelligible noises off by the sound of him putting his teeth in. "Who's there?" 

"I want to fight someone, Al," Grace snapped. 

"What- Amore, is this an emergency?" Lupo asked, sounding exhausted and confused. 

"No, I'm just- I'm just pissed."

"Cool, uh- can this wait until morning? I've got work, Gracie." Her boyfriend said, sleep making his voice sound rougher. 

"Oh yeah, of course sweetheart," she said quickly, twirling the pink phone cord around her finger. "You sound really hot when you're sleepy."

"You sound really creepy, amore. I'm going to bed." Lupo mumbled, voice muffled by his pillow. 

"I love you, baby," Grace cooed. 

"…Love you." He said before hanging up. 

She sat there with the phone in her hand for a few minutes, smiling to herself. Lupo made her heart happy and she was going to marry the fuck out of that man. There was a snuffly sound from her bed that dragged Grace out of her thoughts. She had forgotten that Five was spending the night in her bed. Him and the demon woman- eh, Dolores. Just because she comforted Five didn't mean she didn't creep Grace out. 

Five rolled over and shoved his face into Dolores, hugging her tightly. Grace felt her heart melt a little bit and got up to wrap Five's baby blanket around him before pressing a kiss to his head. After watching him for a few moments, Grace changed into her pajamas and curlers before snuggling up into bed with her son. Five instantly curled up next to Grace, clinging to both his guardian and Dolores. 

It took a few days for Number One to finally convince Grace to let him visit Reginald and a few more days for them to schedule a visit. She didn't want One anywhere near his father without her and Lupo or Eudora and it took awhile for their schedules to all work out but finally Number One was going to see his daddy. Despite Reginald's strict rules and gender roles for him, One wanted to get a nice dress for the occasion and Grace was happy to fulfill his wish. 

He finally decided on Sleeping Beauty's pink dress with a fluffy skirt that flares out when he twirled. One twirled a lot before following Grace into the car, practically skipping. "Can I live with daddy there?" He asked as Lupo helped buckle him in. 

Lupo laughed drily. "You wouldn't last a day in prison, boy. Nah, it's just for an hour or so." 

"Oh." One frowned but felt better after he hugged Pogo. "That's okay."

Grace gave her boyfriend a look as he got into the passenger's seat. "Don't scare him, Al."

"Fine." After buckling himself in, Lupo turned to look at Number One. "You would run that prison. You would make prison your bitch."

Grace smacked his arm. "Lupo! I'll get you a swear jar, on God I will!"

One hugged Pogo tighter. "Where's Eudora?" 

"She's going to meet us there, honey bun," Grace reassured as she started the car. 

"Okay." He was still a bit nervous. Number One wanted to see his daddy but… what if he didn't want to see him? 

"Everything is going to be okay," Grace said as if she had read his thoughts. She squeezed his hand before pulling out of the driveway. "No one is going to hurt you and nothing is going to go wrong." 

He nodded, chewing on Pogo to avoid chewing on his new dress. He had taken too much of his happy calm down pills and it made him drool-y and grabby, despite making One happy. Fluttery and fluffy and melty and stuff. His teeth hurt so much. 

He fell asleep on the car ride to the Umbrella Correctional Center, stress drooling on Pogo. Grace looked back at him and cooed sweetly after they pulled up to the prison. "He's so sweet and baby."

Lupo glanced back at him. "He looks like white Diego."

She poked Lupo's arm. "So he's the cutest little boy ever, right?" 

He pressed a kiss to Grace's cheek. "Absolutely. Diego was the cutest kid ever." 

Grade beamed at him. "I want him to be my baby. I want them both to be my babies. I want so many children." She nuzzled her head into his chest. "I love kids."

Lupo ruffled her hair. "I know, amore. You're great with children."

She kissed his cheek. "I'll go threaten Reginald so he doesn't do anything sketchy, okay baby?"

Lupo smiled and kissed her nose. "You have fun, sweetheart. I'll babysit your drool-y son."

Grace beamed at him. "My son- Al, I just-" she squealed and hugged Lupo tightly. "I love you so much." She kissed his cheek and ran out of the car, practically bouncing. 

Her curls bounced with her as she walked into the Correctional Center. Grace stopped skipping as she got a weird look from one of the guards. Right, skipping into a prison was weird and a bit fucked up emotionally. 

"Here for uh, Reginald Lorgnette," Grace said awkwardly as she reached the front desk. 

The man running it glanced at a clipboard and nodded. "Visitor's room, turn left then right and leave your phone with the guard."

The man who searched Grace was very confused about why a woman's pants wouldn't be completely flat in the front but other than that, everything went smoothly. Less than five minutes later she was sitting in front of a once dignified looking man who prison was not kind to. 

Diego would have described Reginald as a dilf who became homeless. Grace would have used more tact but the description still fit him. Reginald's once perfectly groomed hair had started to show his bald spot, his once waxed moustache looked more at home on a sex offender than the monopoly man and green was not his colour. The black eye didn't make him look any more approachable. 

She straightened her slacks before sitting down in front of Reginald. "Suicide risk and a black eye, huh? You're not gonna last."

He chuckled and pressed two fingers to his bruise. "I think I'll do just fine."

"So who'd you piss off this time?"

Reginald smiled coldly. "They pissed me off. They won't do it again."

Grace laughed and leaned back in her chair. "What'd they do, take your dentures?"

"I said I'd kill myself if I had to share my cell with someone so I slammed my head against the wall until they took my cellmate away."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're stable."

Reginald smiled like an actual person would and propped his head up with his elbows on the table. "So where's my son? You're only here because I want to see him."

Grace scowled at him. "He's in the car and you're not going to see Number One until you agree to some things."

"Oooh, threatening me?" He beamed at her. "You've learned so much from me and change so much. Why I remember when you were just a little boy named-"

"Shut up," Grace snapped. "I don't want to hear your manipulative bullshit and I don't want you to emotionally torture Number One."

Reginald stared her down for a few seconds and then sighed, curling up his moustache. "Fine. I won't "emotionally torture" my boy."

Grace narrowed her eyes, watching his expression for any signs of lying. "Fine. Ten minutes."

She got to her feet and flounced out of the room to very Lupo and One were standing in the hallway. Number One looked like he had been crying and was no longer holding Pogo, whom the guards had taken at the front door. Sighing, Grace pressed a kiss to his forehead. "It's going to be okay, baby. You'll get your Pogo back."

One nodded, chewing on his dress sleeve which very drool-y. They needed to work on that. Maybe get him a bib. 

"Can I go see daddy now?" He asked, sleeve still in his mouth. 

Grace nodded and squeezed his hand. "Be safe, baby."

As soon as he saw Reginald, One went to hug him before the guard stopped him. "You can touch before you leave."

He hugged himself nervously and sat down in front of his father. "I missed you daddy."

Reginald didn't say anything, looking his son up and down. "You're wearing a dress."

Smiling, Number One nodded. "Mhmm! Grace got it for me! I like the fluffy skirt."

"You know boys aren't supposed to wear dresses," Reginald said and his son's heart dropped. 

"I just… sorry daddy," he mumbled. 

"Good boy." His smiled slightly as One brushed his foot against his leg. "You're very clingy today, aren't you?"

Number One nodded, blushing slightly. "I missed you lots daddy."

Reginald's eyes crinkled as his smile widened. "I missed you too, space boy. You were the highlight of my life."

One hugged himself and beamed at his father. "You're my favoritest light too."

"Adorable." His smile faded as he leaned forward to his son, sighing. "I'm sorry Number One, but I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you."


	22. Little Prince

He stared at his father for a few seconds and laughed uncomfortably. "But lying is bad, daddy." 

Reginald sighed and curled up his moustache. "I know, space boy, you're right." He sat there in silence for a few seconds before looking up at his son. "You don't have powers, Number One." 

"Oh," One mumbled, feeling deflated. He had tried to manifest his powers for years and… well, it had never worked. It was world changing and it meant his father lied to him. Daddy wasn't supposed to lie. 

"You're still special," Reginald explained, leaning forward. "You're such an incredibly special little boy, you know that?"

Sniffling, Number One rubbed at his eyes. "Really?"

His father smiled. "Yes space boy, you're a prince."

One perked up instantly. "Really? A prince?"

Reginald nodded, setting his hand down next to his son's. "Really. You're an adorable and lovely prince, whom I love so much."

"Is Grace a queen?" He perked up. "Can Grace be my queen mom?" 

Reginald sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You've gained some weight, haven't you?"

One hunched in on himself, rubbing at his eyes again. It was true, he had gained some weight. He had some extra tummy now because of the new diet Grace and Dr Terminal had him on and well… maybe he was a bit squishy than he used to be. But that wasn't a bad thing, was it? He didn't bruise as easily, he was less hungry all the time and there was less blood when he went to the bathroom.

"Do you remember when I read you Hansel and Gretel?" Reginald asked, tapping his fingers on the table. "Remember the witch?"

Number One nodded. The witch kept Hansel and Gretel in her house and fed them lots and lots of food because the witch wanted to eat. 

His father smiled sadly. "Grace is feeding you much more than I did, hm? Fattening you up and the like." 

One nodded again, fiddling with his dress sleeves. Food wasn't bad, right? Food was good and nice. 

Reginald lowered his voice. "She's a witch, Number One. Why do you think she's feeding you so much?"

His son had started tearing up again and shook his head. "No, daddy, no no no no-"

His father slammed an open hand on the table. "You can't trust Grace, my little prince. The witch was nice to the children until she had them trapped, until she started fattening them up. You know what she's going to do to you."

One rubbed at his eyes, his nose running hard. "She's gonna- She's- she's gonna eat me?" 

Reginald sighed and nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, space boy. Oh my poor boy, I need to get you out of there. No one is going to eat my little boy."

His son nodded, wiping his nose with his hand. "Should I run away?"

"No, Number One. If you lose weight, she won't eat you. No use eating someone tiny," Reginald explained in the way only his son would believe. "You can't trust anyone because they only want to hurt you. Like prince Charming, remember?"

The guard left the door and poked Number One's shoulder. "Time's up, say goodbye." 

One got up and hugged his father tightly, burying his face into Reginald's chest. "I love you daddy…"

"I love you too, little prince." He pressed a kiss to Number One's head. "You'll come see me again?"

One nodded, sniffling before Reginald wiped his nose. "Bye daddy…"

"Goodbye, space boy." He pressed a kiss to One's forehead and followed the guard out of the room. "If my jello and mashed potatoes touch again, I'm going to kill myself. I swear I will."

Number One rubbed at his eyes as Grace came up and took his arm. "Come on, sweetheart. Time to go home."

His heart dropped at Grace's touch. "Okay…" he wanted to pull his arm away but the physical contact felt so good. One didn't want Grace to touch him but… cozy. She wasn't going to eat him yet, right? 

"What did you talk about, honey?" Grace asked as they were driving home, glancing at Number One in the rearview mirror. 

One whined and hugged Pogo tightly. "I wanna go to bed…"

"Prison visits can be stressful, especially for kids," Lupo noted. "How about we get you some McDonald's or whatever and you can watch your princess shows in bed?"

One shook his head and whined harder, tears welling up in his eyes. "Bedtime, bedtime, bedtime-"

"Alright, kiddo, alright," Lupo said, trying to calm him down. "You're okay, kiddo."

He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes hard, chewing on Pogo's tail. One had started drooling again and it was getting on his dress. 

Grace sighed and handed Number One a tissue. "Need to wash your dress, sweetheart."

One shook his head and wiped his face with the tissue. His medication was making him hungry and clingy. 

After they got home, Grace cleaned Number One up and changed his outfit. She smiled and straightened his overalls before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "There you go, honey buns. Now you're good enough to eat!"

One's smile slid off his face and he laughed nervously. "I'm not food…"

"You're a honey bun, baby," Grace cooed, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Bedtime now?"

He curled up under his sheets and sniffled, chewing on his pillow. Just because he was hungry didn't mean he needed to eat. He had spent his entire life distracting himself from his hunger by chewing on things that weren't food. Paper, toys, books, clothes, blankets. Anything that felt vaguely like food in his mouth. 

One whined hard, rubbing at his teeth. His medicine made his teeth and mouth ache like the time he had his teeth pulled out by Prince Charming. 

Ben crawled out of his bed and poked One's cheek. He made a noise in the back of his throat and poked him again. 

One rolled away from him and pulled his blanket over his head. "I'm sleeping."

Ben made another noise and pressed the help button on the wall before grabbing his alternative communication device. "You. Need. Help," the device said as Ben left the room.


	23. Grace You Fucking Whore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating disorder stuff and child abuse, you know how it be

Number One had started changing his diet. He was doing it subtly so no one would notice because he was very worried about Grace finding out. Since he had re-read Hansel and Gretel, One desperately wanted to keep on good terms with her. 

He had only been locked in a cage one time and he did not want to repeat the experience. Especially not with force feeding. Number One had a very bad relationship with food. 

Grace peeked in his bedroom door. "It's lunchtime, honey."

One looked up from behind his bed. "Oh… I'm not hungry."

She smiled tightly, nodding. "Alright, baby. How about you just have some apple slices, okay then?"

He took a deep breath and got to his feet, pulling his sweater tighter around him. "Okay…" Number One mumbled, following her out of the bedroom. 

Five glared at One as he sat down at the table. "Fucking heretic."

"Language!" Grace admonished, setting a bowl of apple slices down in front of Number One. 

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Why are we even eating together? We never eat together."

Allison sighed and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Because schedules are good for you and we want to make sure you're all healthy."

Diego dragged his fork through his beef bowl. "We're hot young offenders, Allikins, of course we're unhealthy." 

"We're not young offenders any more, dumbass," Vanya said, grabbing a piece of beef out of Diego's bowl with her chopsticks. 

"Family meals are healthy," Allison offered hopefully. 

Diego stabbed the table with a plastic fork hard enough to snap it. "The last family dinner I had, my parents told me they were getting divorce."

Grace choked on her tea, coughing. "Hm?"

He shrugged, crushing the fork in his hand. "It's just y'know, I can no longer trust blond people or men or the police or white people-"

Vanya rolled her eyes. "That's like half of the people here and your girlfriend is a cop, bitch."

Diego punched her arm and she yelled. "Grace! He punched a cripple!"

Grace sighed and took a very long sip of tea. "Diego, you're- children- stop-"

Diego rolled his remaining eye and Vanya punched his arm back. Klaus banged his head on the table. "Shut up, you're so annoying."

Ben pulled One's apple slices over to him and started peeling them slowly, staring him down. Five blinked and took a sip of his coffee before getting to his feet. "See you later, losers."

Allison sighed and sat down next Ben, pulling the apple slices away from him. 

Grace poured herself another cup of tea. "Be careful, Allison, Ben bites sometimes." 

Allison stared at Ben, who smiled and started slowly eating his apple peel. "Alright. You keep your teeth to yourself, kiddo."

Number One smiled uncomfortably and pushed his apples towards Ben who took them happily. 

An hour or so later, One was sitting in the bathroom getting checked over by Allison. In the chaos of lunch, no one noticed that he hadn't eaten anything but she still wanted to weigh him. 

After he took off his slippers and climbed onto the scale, Allison raised her eyebrows. "Huh. Ninety eight pounds, good for you."

One looked up at her. "What? Why's that good?"

She smiled and squeezed his hands. "You're gaining weight, Number One. Keep eating like that and we'll have you at a healthy weight in no time!"

He shook his head. "No silly, I'm s'posed to lose weight. I have too much tummy."

Allison frowned slightly. "What's wrong with some tummy?"

One thought for a moment. "Um…. Because it's too much. Daddy said too much of good thing is a bad thing."

She sighed and straightened his sweater. "Your daddy's not here anymore, plus you really don't weigh enough. I can see your ribs through your skin and I can fit my hand around your bicep."

"But… but I'm a little boy," he tried to explain, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "And little boys are meant to be little." 

Allison nodded and sat down next to him. "What would happen if you weren't little anymore?"

Number One stared at the ground, lost in thought. Whenever his daddy was being sweet to him, he always called One his little boy, his space boy, his little prince or his little one. Always something little. 

Number One was little. He was supposed to be little and he was supposed to stay little. Probably forever. That's what Reginald wanted, after all and bad things happened when One didn't do what he wanted. 

He pulled up his sweater sleeve and ran his fingers over the myriad of bumps and indents from years of cigarette burns. "One burn for every one I gain, one kiss for every one I lose," One mumbled to himself, just loud enough for Allison to hear. 

She didn't know whether the quiet obedience in his voice or the moonscape of burns hurt her heart more. Listening to one of her patients talk about a horrifying punishment with the energy of a cultist talking about an old man telling him to drink poison was nothing less than heartbreaking. 

Allison hesitated before wrapping her arms around Number One, rubbing soothing circles across his back. "How about a bath and then a story before your nap, okay?" She offered, making her voice much more calm and happy than she felt. 

One nuzzled his head into Allison. "Okay. I trust you."

She gently pressed her forehead to the top of his head. "I trust you too."

Number One was very well behaved in the bath, which was good but bathing him put all his scars on display, which was unsettling. Allison wasn't sure if she wanted to know what the rows of perfectly even white and pink lines were from or what caused the uneven angles of his ribs or the-

Hang on, what was the small bump and row of stitches on his inner arm from? Allison lifted up his arm and studied it closely before poking it gently. 

One squeaked in pain but didn't pull his arm away. 

"Sorry," She said quickly and released his arm. "Just thought I saw something."


	24. Tracking Devices

Family meals were scrapped after Ben bit Klaus for sitting too close to him but every breakfast still involved One, Five and Grace. And Inspector Lupo, for some reason. Number One wasn't sure why but Lupo was nice enough and didn't question when he didn't eat anything. 

Currently, Number One was hiding orange slices in his sweater. Sure, they were mostly water but any food was food and any food was too much. 

The only problem was the orange juice spreading across his sweater that was becoming very apparent to Grace. 

She sighed and got to her feet. "Honey, your sweater's dirty. Gotta wash that."

One hesitated before letting her take off his sweater, a few orange slices falling out of the pocket. Grace frowned slightly. "You need to eat your food, sweetie."

He sighed and nodded, slowly chewing on an orange slice until Grace left the room to wash his sweater. One discreetly spit out the orange in his napkin as soon as she left. 

Five watched him very carefully, eyes narrowing. He had spotted the bump and the stitches on Number One's arm, which were very suspicious to him. 

Lupo glanced at the somewhat creepy expression on Five's face. "You okay, kid?" He asked, putting down his coffee. 

Five sat in silence for a few moments before grabbing his knife and climbing onto the table, lunging at Number One. 

"Hey!" Lupo yelled, trying to pull Five off of the other boy. "What the hell?"

The adrenaline coursing through the thirteen year old's body was enough for him to escape from the police officer and stab Number One in the shoulder, knocking them both to the ground. Five's hands were shaking as he cut open the stitches on his arm, sticking his fingers in Number One's cut and pulling out a tiny metal capsule. 

"I knew it!" Five yelled, climbing off of him. "I knew it!"

"What the fuck?" Lupo exclaimed, jumping backwards. "Grace! What is- Grace!" 

Grace came running back into the room after hearing the crash. "What's happening? Fivey? Al? What's wrong?"

Five pushed Number One away and got to his feet, holding up the capsule. "He's got a tracker! He's being traced, Grace!" 

One whimpered softly from the floor, tears streaming down his face. "I'm not- I'm sorry…"

Lupo sighed and helped Number One back into his chair. "You're okay, kiddo. You're- wow, you're really bleeding." He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at One's cut. 

Grace took a deep breath and took the capsule from Five. "Sweetheart. You cannot cut people. This is nothing, it's probably…" she paused and turned to Number One. "Honey what is this?" 

One sobbed, pulling the collar of his shirt over the bottom of his face. "That's my- my medicine…" he mumbled. 

"Hang on," Lupo reached out and took the capsule from Grace. "That's a histrelin implant."

Five looked up from the literal blood on his hands. "What's that?"

Grace smiled eagerly. "Histrelin? Like…?"

Lupo nodded, setting it down on the table and wiping the blood off his fingers. "Yeah, it's a puberty blocker."

She squealed and hugged Number One. "Oh honey!" Grace pulled away, beaming. "Did you want to be a little girl?" 

One sniffled. "What…?"

Lupo laughed lightly. "Gracie- uh, Grace, he's too old to be on puberty blockers. If he- or uh, she is trans, she'd be on hormones by now."

Five narrowed his eyes and looked at everyone individually for a few seconds. "So he's not being tracked?"

Grace sighed and took Five's hands. "No, sweetheart. Now how about we talk about appropriate behavior and use of knives?"

He shrugged and followed Grace out of the room. "Sure thing, Grace."

Lupo and Number One sat there in silence for a few seconds. 

"Hey kiddo, how about I stitch up that cut, yeah?" Lupo asked. 

One nodded and took Lupo's hand as he led the younger boy into the upstairs bathroom with the first aid kit. "You're not a real man, right?" One asked, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. 

Lupo looked up at him as he threaded the medical needle. "Sorry what?"

"Daddy says people like you aren't real boys," Number One explained innocently. 

The inspector laughed uncomfortably. "Sure, kid. Your old man calls Grace slurs, so I don't think he's the best authority on things."

One cocked his head to the side. "What's a slur?" 

Lupo raised his eyebrows. "I'm not going to even begin to explain that to you," he muttered, starting to stitch up Number One's cut. 

He winced slightly. "Is a slur a mean thing?" 

The older man laughed again. "Oh, that makes you sound so privileged, boy. It's real mean. Really, really mean."

"Oh okay!" One smiled. "That's okay then."

Lupo stared at him. "Man, what- I thought you liked Grace."

Number One shrugged. "She's going to lock me in a box and feed me food until I gain weight and then she's going to eat me. So I dunno. Grace is stupid."

He blinked. "You're- Grace isn't- who the hell told you that?" 

"Daddy did," One said simply. 

Lupo rolled his eyes and finished stitching up Number One's arm. "Your daddy is a dick, boy. Ain't nobody eating anyone, alright?"

One shook his head. "No, daddy's smart and he understands things. Grace's a witch."

The inspector sighed and wiped the blood off of One's arm. "Gracie isn't a witch. This isn't Hansel and Gretel."

He rubbed at his eyes and got to his feet. "She's going to eat me, mr person. She's going to put me in a cage and eat me when I'm fat enough."

Lupo raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment. "You know," he said secretively, "I can get you some food that won't make you… get fat."

One looked up at him excitedly. "Really?"

"Really." Lupo held up two boxes of Band-Aids. "Sanrio or disney?" Number One pointed to the hello kitty box and Lupo pressed one over his cut. "There you go, kiddo. Let's get you some food."


	25. Bi Bi Bi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reference to sexual assault but no one's been sexually assaulted

Number One was tired of going to doctors. He didn't like taking his clothes off and he definitely didn't like being around scary people. Dr. Terminal was very scary and her cold hand made One cry when she touched him with it. 

He was currently crying, face buried into Pogo and sleeves pulled down over his hands. Dr. Terminal had to do another blood test and One had to take off his clothes for one of the examinations. He hugged Pogo tighter. All of his clothes. 

Five glanced over at Number One from his chair next to him in the hospital waiting room. "Hey Luther?"

One looked up, rubbing at his eyes but he didn't say anything. 

Five could guess what that meant. "I'm uh, I'm sorry for stabbing you. And ripping out your medication. And calling you a heretic. And a bimbo."

"You never called me a bimbo," One whispered after a few seconds. 

The younger boy shrugged. "Not to your face. Is your stab wound healing?" 

Number One nodded and looked back at the floor. "I wish you didn't do that. The tests are scary."

Five put down his book about claymation filmmaking, looking far more interested in the conversation. "Oh, did they do the-" he made a circle with his index and thumb and put his other index finger through it repeatedly "-test?"

One cocked his head to the side like a bewildered puppy dog. "What test?" 

Huffing, Five rolled his eyes. "Y'know." He lowered his voice and leaned closer. "Stuff adults do. Like moms and dads."

Number One still had no idea what that meant but didn't want to look dumb when Five had finally started being nice to him. "Oh, yeah. Uh no. Not that test." 

"Yeah, especially when you have to get STD tests after," Five said very calmly for what he was talking about. "If I had a dollar every time I peed in a cup, right?"

One scrunched his nose in confusion. "If you had a dollar?"

"It's a thing people say," Five explained. "I don't know, things don't make sense. Autism or whatever, you know?"

Number One didn't know but he nodded like he did and took a sip from his juice box. He liked juice and didn't understand why daddy wouldn't let him have it. It was made of fruit and vegetables and they were healthy. 

Five watched him closely before taking a sip from his coffee. "You are a strange little man boy, Luther."

"Why do you call me Luther?" He asked, chewing on his straw. 

Five shrugged. "You're probably not catholic and you wrecked my family, kind of. My mother's kind of catholic, I think."

"Why do you call her mother only behind her back?" 

The younger boy scowled and took a long sip of his coffee, turning away from Number One. This was the typical way Five chose to end conversations and he was ending this conversation. 

After only a few awkward minutes of silence, Grace and Lupo came out of the doctor's office. Their hands brushed against each other for less than a second but it made Five's scowl darken. 

"Let's go," He huffed, getting to his feet and grabbing his teddy bear backpack. "I have four octopus documentaries to watch."

Grace looked confused. "Didn't you already watch them all?"

Five rolled his eyes. "No, I watched one about tentacles, these ones are about intelligence and maze traversing." 

Lupo leaned over to whisper in Grace's ear. "What's the difference?"

She shrugged and smiled brightly, holding her hand out to Five. "Time to go home? You still have time to watch your show before your community service."

He got to his feet and didn't take her hand. "You stab one person…" Five grumbled, shoving his hand into his pockets. 

Everyone knew Diego didn't have a good grip on emotional understanding, that's why Vanya called him a bi triple threat. A bipolar biracial bisexual and she usually threw idiot on the end. He wasn't very good at regulating his emotions, especially where his father was involved. 

Diego scowled at his father, cracking his gum. "So you've got a new kid, huh?" 

Lupo sighed and butted out his cigarette. "Topolino, no one's- Diego, I took him to the hospital. Calm down, kiddo."

Diego huffed. "Not your kiddo. Barely your kid. Have fun with your new, better, whiter son."

His father blinked. "Diego what are you- what are you talking about?"

He shot Lupo a withering look and got to his feet. "Go to hell, carajo!"

Vanya glanced up when Diego slammed the door behind him. "Is that the fourth time you've called your dad a dick in spanish this month?" 

He rolled his eye and dropped his gum into the garbage can. "You wanna smoke weed in the woods?"

Vanya thought for a moment before agreeing. "Sure. My legs are good enough that I can crawl today." 

Diego raised his eyebrows as he followed her out of the house. "Damn girl, soon you'll be running marathons, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and flipped back onto her back wheels. "I'll run your ass over, bitch. Watch your shit."

Diego laughed and stepped out of her way. "You definitely need weed, man. Calm your ass down."

Vanya stuck her tongue out and dropped back onto four wheels. "You're the one who calls people cunts for getting divorced."

He scowled, scuffing his boots on the sidewalk as they walked to the forest. "It's not the divorce thing, it's- it's the thing."

She wheeled up over a root and turned back to look at Diego. "The what thing? The helping a boy with a weird brain problem?"

Diego ignored her, digging through the box full of joints, cigarettes and lighters hidden in a tree knothole. He pulled out a joint and lit it, kicking a rock into the stream. 

Vanya huffed and took the joint from him. "I think it's your bi polar talking, man. You're jealous of Luther or Number One or whatever." She took a drag and coughed. 

Diego took the joint back and inhaled. "That's bullshit, Vanya."

She rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her overly gelled hair. "Sure, Diego. That's why you lost your shit at your dad for babysitting."

He scowled and took another drag, exhaling slowly. Diego didn't want to get into his reasons for his anger and he definitely didn't want to admit that he was jealous. 

Vanya grabbed back the joint. "Didn't you cry for an hour because you found a blonde curl on his jacket?"

"I'll push your ass in the river, Vanny, I swear to fuck." 


	26. Oink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating disorder stuff and self harm, Luther's a messed up little boy

Number One didn't want to be eaten, which was to be expected. He trusted his father implicitly and his father said that Grace wanted to eat him, so that meant she did. One's daddy was never wrong. 

They had another visit and Reginald had described meat cookery in horrifying detail, specifically how Grace would cook him. 

"She'd have to pull out all of your hair first," his father had said, "not shave it, no, that would stay in your skin and make it bad to eat. She'd pull out all of your hair and that's just the beginning."

Number One sniffled, staring at his father in wide eyed horror. "What- what happens next?"

Reginald leaned forward on the table, propping himself up on his elbows. "She's going to pull out all of your insides while you're still alive and then cover you in butter and spices. Remember those pigs with the apples in their mouths?"

One nodded shakily, hands clenching on the table. "But I'm- I'm not a pig, daddy."

His father laughed lightly. "You could have fooled me with those thighs and stomach."

Number One felt his face grow hot with shame. He wasn't fat, not really. He was losing weight but it was hard to get rid of food with Grace and Allison watching. 

Reginald leaned forward. "What sound does a pig make?"

One stared down at the table and shook his head, hugging himself. He knew but he didn't want to say it. 

"Number One," Reginald said warningly, drumming his fingers on the table. 

"Oink," he mumbled, still not looking at his father. 

"I'm sorry, Number One? I didn't hear that."

"Oink," One said louder, glancing up at Reginald. 

He smiled coldly. "Now if only we had an apple for your mouth."

Number One started tearing up at the memory and quickly wiped at his eyes. He forced a shaky smile onto his face and poked at his stomach as he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

One did have more weight to lose before he was safe but he didn't look like a pig, right? No, of course not. That was mean. 

Number One shook his head and pinched his inner arm hard. No, that was a bad thought. No thinking bad things about daddy. Daddy was good and nice and only said that to make sure he wouldn't get eaten. 

But it still felt mean and One pinched his arm harder. No bad thoughts about his daddy. Not allowed. Sniffling, he rubbed at the purple marks forming on his arm and held back more tears. 

The bathroom door opened and Number One jumped, cowering away from it. Allison smiled kindly and closed the bathroom door behind her. 

"I heard crying and I had to check it out," she explained. "Are you hurt?"

One shook his head quickly and pulled his sleeves down over his fresh bruises. 

Allison noticed his unsubtly and held out her hand. "Could I see your arm please?"

He hesitated. Showing her the marks could get him in trouble but refusing what people asked of him always ended with a fresh burn or something slammed in the icebox door. Burns were worse than trouble, Number One decided and he held out his arm to Allison. 

"Thank you." She had switched to her sweet and calming nurse voice. "You're being very good."

That made him smile. He liked being good. 

Allison pushed his sleeve up to reveal the fresh bruises along with a myriad of other recent injuries. Scratch marks, bruises, even a bite mark or two. "Did you do these?"

One nodded after a few seconds, looking down at the floor. There was that feeling again, hot, uncomfortable shame. 

She sighed and he braced himself for a slap or a cruel word but all Allison did was pull his sleeve back down and wipe his tears away. "You're going through a lot, huh?"

He looked up. "What?"

"I mean, you've had your whole life completely changed in about a month, it makes sense you'd be stressed." Allison smiled comfortingly and wiped at One's eyes with a damp tissue. "There we go. Don't want you getting a rash."

He stood there in silence for a few seconds before looking up at Allison. "Do you think I'm fat?"

She took his hands in hers. "Absolutely not. You're skinny, and dangerously so. Your hair is falling out, you're tired all the time, your stomach hurts- those are signs you need to gain weight."

Number One shook his head so hard it made him feel sick. "No no no no- if I do, the witch is going to eat me!"

"Hey, hey, shhhh," Allison said soothingly, helping him sit down on the toilet. "No one's going to eat you, baby."

He shook his head again, tears welling up in his eyes. "Daddy said the witch is going to eat me because I'm a pig."

"Oh shhhh shhh," Allison shushed One, pulling him into an awkward sitting down hug. "Shhhh, baby, get it all out."

"I'm not fat," He sobbed, clinging to Allison's shoulders and burying his face in her sweater. "I'm not fat…"

"I know, honey, I know," she reassured him, rubbing circles over his back. "No one's going to eat you, okay? People don't eat people here, especially not little kids."

One looked up. "But daddy said Grace is a witch. Like Hansel and Gretel."

Allison sighed and wiped away his tears. "Sometimes people lie to get other people to do what they want. Your dad likes having you skinny and little and hungry, yeah?"

He nodded, sniffling.

She grabbed another tissue and held it out to One. "Blow your nose, kiddo."

He did and Allison dropped the tissue into the trash. "And Grace wants you to eat more, right?"

Number One nodded again.

"So wouldn't it make more sense for your dad to lie about Grace than for Grace to want to eat you?" Allison asked, brushing a stray tear off his cheek.


	27. Daddy's Cigarettes

Grace leaned her head against Lupo's chest, looking up at him in the dark. "I can't sleep."

This was an invitation for him to comfort her and he understood that. After moving his arm on the dark for a minute, Lupo found the glass with his teeth and put them back in his mouth with an uncomfortable suction sound. "What's on your mind, Gracie?"

She readjusted her curlers and pressed a kiss to his jawline. "I'm worried about Luther- I mean, Number One. I keep calling him Luther because Five thinks he's a heretic."

Lupo laughed and ran his thumb over Grace's bottom lip. "Luther's a strong name for a boy, amore. I'd name my next son that if I didn't have my hysterectomy in 2009."

She laughed lightly. "You make very cute children. Diego is adorable."

"He is, isn't he? Just wish he liked me as much as Luther did."

Grace looked up at him. "Luther likes you?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" Lupo asked, playing with the hem of her shirt. 

"No, I just- he doesn't like me anymore," Grace mumbled, running her fingers over one of the many scars on his arm. 

Her boyfriend laughed uncomfortably and shifted in the bed. "Uh, he might think that you're a…" he trailed off unintelligibly. 

Grace looked up at him. "What was that?"

"He might think you're an evil witch who wants to eat you…?" It came out sounding like a question. 

She sat up. "What? He thinks what?"

Lupo sighed and sat up, sliding his arms around Grace's waist. "That's why he stopped eating. He thinks if he gains weight, you're going to eat him, but-" Grace started talking and he spoke over her "-but Allison has been talking with him, okay?"

Grace huffed and put her hands over Lupo's. "Did Reginald tell him that?"

He took her hands in his and pressed a kiss to Grace's bare shoulder. "Obviously. But he'll be okay, amore. It's going to be okay."

She sighed and lay back down. "I love you, you know that?"

Lupo made a noise of agreement as he took his teeth out and lay back down. Grace leaned her head against his chest and wrapped the blanket around them. 

* * *

Vanya kicked on Klaus' door. "Ay yo, white boy."

He opened the door, hair flopping in front of his eyes. "You're white too, Vanya. What do you want?"

She held up a plastic bag with a foil back and shook it. "You know what's up."

Klaus cackled, showing his baby blue tongue piercing. "Bitch! We going to the woods?"

Vanya nodded and tucked the bag into her bra before wheeling away. One's bedroom door opened and he peeked out of it, biting off a chunk of the protein bars Lupo had given him. "What's the woods?"

She stopped and smiled awkwardly. "Uh, we're just going to the forest behind the house and… do stuff."

Number One nodded and swallowed. "Can I-" he stopped himself and pinched his arm hard. "Sorry."

Vanya's stomach clenched painfully. "Uh, no, that's okay. You can come with us if you want to."

The walk to the forest was very awkward. One was intensely confused by the outdoors and wasn't used to wearing shoes so he was constantly stumbling and clinging to Klaus' arm.

"You're so clumsy," he huffed, poking One's side. 

He squeaked and moved away from Klaus. "I'm not!"

Vanya rolled her eyes. "You're a dumb bitch, Klaus."

Number One was very excited by the stream. He had never seen or heard natural water before and was very happy to splash around in it. 

Klaus put his arm around Vanya's shoulders. "He's like our brain damaged little son."

She punched his arm and pushed him off. "I won't smoke with you if you're going to be a freak."

Klaus rolled his eyes, pulling the box out of the tree knothole and taking out the joint paper and filters. "Are you any good at rolling?"

Number One looked up and climbed out of the stream. "Can I try?"

Klaus laughed before noticing his expression. "You're serious?"

One nodded. "Mmhm. I'm good at that."

He rolled his eyes and held out the paper, filters and weed to Number One. "Sure, kid. You try."

He took the box from Klaus and plopped onto the ground, aligning the filter at one end and filling the paper with the ground weed. Less than a minute later, One had finished sealing the joint, twisted the end of it and handed it to Klaus. "Here."

Vanya took it from him and turned it over in her hands. "How the hell do you know how to do that?"

He shrugged and played with the hem of his sweater. "I used to roll my daddy's cigarettes and he'd give me a blueberry for every one I made."

Klaus shoved the materials toward One. "God, you could be a dealer. Make more."

Number One liked playing with Klaus and Vanya. They didn't give him blueberries but they didn't pinch him either so that was nice. Vanya was very sweet to him and Klaus was a bit mean and grouchy but he liked them both very much. 

A few hours later, One was hungry and cold and tired. Something about the cigarettes he was making made him feel hungry and loopy and he very much wanted to go home. 

Klaus snorted, leaning against a tree. "I'm just-" he laughed harder. "What the fuck?"

Vanya shook her head, tapping her joint off on her wheelchairs wheel. "You're so fucking high."

One rubbed at his eyes and sighed, curling up on the ground in his wet clothes. "I don't like outside…"

There was the sound of leaves crunching and Grace stepped into the clearing. "What are you doing? I've been looking for you lot all afternoon!"

Vanya quickly dropped her joint in a mud puddle and stamped it out. "Uh… we just got… we were…"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "We were doing druuuu… gs."

Vanya kicked his leg.

Grace gave them both dirty looks. 

"It's hard to think of things!" Klaus huffed. 

Vanya rolled her eyes. "We just had druuuu… gs. You're right, it is hard!"

Grace sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Vanya, I'm going to talk to your foster parent about this and Klaus, I'm going to tell your parole officer and your sponsor about this, alright?"

Vanya huffed and wheeled back towards the house. "Tell him he's a cunt then too."

Grace straightened her blouse. "I will not tell Leonard that, dear, but thank you. Klaus honey, Luther, did you want to come back to the house now?"

Klaus rolled his eyes and got to his feet, trudging after Vanya and grumbling under his breath. 

Grace reached down and helped Number One up. "It's bedtime, sweetheart, okay?"

He sniffled, shaking slightly at her touch. "I maked them cigarettes like daddy."

"Did you now?" Grace asked, leading him back to the house. 


	28. Tangled

Grace's favorite way to work out her ideas and confusions by writing them down and she excelled when it came to handwriting. Years of internalized misogyny had made Grace spend hours perfecting her cursive and the little hearts she added over every j, i and strange little ü's. Her overly sweet, pink and floral aesthetic was very apparent in all of her works. 

Five sat down next to her, taking a loud slurp from his juice box. "What are you doing?"

She tapped her pen on the edge of her notebook anxiously and stuck the end in her mouth. "Trying to convince Luther that I'm not going to eat him."

Five set his apple juice on the table and pulled Grace's notebook towards him. "Become vegetarian?"

"I don't know," she huffed, grabbing Five's juice and taking a sip. 

He flipped through the notes Grace had taken on Number One's situation and his relationship with Reginald. "Well obviously he's being gaslighted by a possessive authority figure that likes to treat him like a doll or a puppy, you can work through that."

Grace sighed and took her notebook back. "It's a lot easier on paper, honey."

Five rolled his eyes, chewing on the end of his straw. "No, it's easier when you stop overthinking it, Hargreeves. He's been gaslighted, explain it to him in a child friendly way. Watch Tangled with him."

She looked up and pulled Five into a hug. "My God, you're so smart!" Grace pressed a kiss to his forehead and released him. "That's my boy!"

Five rolled his eyes again and straightened his blazer and hair hurriedly. "Euuugh. I am not a puppy."

Grace booped his nose and got to her feet, straightening her skirt before tucking her blouse back in. "I love you, you know that?"

He took a sip from his juice and got to his feet. "Yeah, I got that. I'm going to watch horror movies in the basement."

"Alright honey! Just make sure to put a puppy pad on the couch, okay?" 

Five scowled. "That's- fuck, fine. But that was one goddamn time."

Grace smiled and wiped apple juice off his cheek. "You have fun, Five."

* * *

One was eating blueberries in his room as he "art-ed" with Ben. Ben was a surprisingly good artist for someone exclusively used green and black. He almost exclusively drew eyes and hands but they were very nice eyes and hands. Number One liked drawing princesses a lot but he mostly just mixed colours together and drew them over top of each other. 

They had a good friendship which was built on mutual silence and fascination with art. One didn't like to talk to boys still and Ben didn't talk at all, so they both used his communication device to talk to each other. 

Ben tapped a few buttons on it and the device said "Bees."

Number One nodded. He was drawing bees. Vanya read him a book about insects and he really liked bees. Not so much other insects though, they weren't as fluffy and they didn't make honey. Spiders were scary but they weren't really insects so it didn't matter that he didn't like them. 

There was a knock at the door and Grace opened it. "Luther- uh, Number One?"

He looked up from his bees and shifted uncomfortably. One didn't want to talk to the witch. "Hi…?"

"Hi honey," she said as sweet as she could. "Would you like to watch a Disney movie with me?"

Number One sat there in thought. He always wanted to watch Disney movies but… but the witch. He didn't want to watch with the witch. "Um… which one?"

"Tangled."

He hummed thoughtfully. That was a new movie and he had never seen it before. "Hm… okay."

"Alright!" Grace opened the door and offered her hand to One. 

He didn't take it and got to his feet separately, shoving his hands into his pockets as he followed Grace to her bedroom. The TV was already set up with Tangled in and Number One sat down excitedly on the couch. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped Favio's blanket around himself. 

Grace sat down next to One but gave him a wide berth of space before playing the movie. 

When Mother Knows Best played, Number One hugged himself. "She's like daddy. Did daddy get me from a princess daddy?"

Grace took a sip from her tea. "I don't know, honey. You're not scared of Mother Gothel?"

One shook his head. "Nope. She's like daddy."

"And that doesn't concern you?"

It didn't concern him. Number One associated control with love and vice versa so Mother Gothel seemed normal to him. Except daddy didn't sing. Maybe he should. One made a mental note to mention it to his father at their next visit. 

"She ran away," One mumbled, hugging his knees. "She ran away from her girl daddy."

"Her mother, Luther," Grace corrected. 

He took a sip from his water. "Girl daddy."

Grace tucked his hair behind his ear. "Alright, sweetheart."

Later, One hunched into himself, wrapping the blanket around him. "Why's she being mean to rapunzel? She's lying."

Grace took a sip from her cup of tea, putting her feet up on her overstuffed floral pouf. "Because Mother Gothel is a mean person. She's lying because she wants to keep Rapunzel with her."

Number One deflated visibly. "By saying that everyone is bad?"

She nodded. "If Rapunzel doesn't trust anyone, she'll stay with her mother."

"Oh," He whispered, chewing on his sweater sleeve. 

Grace smiled to herself as she sipped her tea. Her plan seemed to be working. Well Five's plan but still. Soon Luther would trust her again or at least Grace hoped he would. 

"I don't like Mother Gothel…" One mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head and shaking it hard. "She's scary…"

Grace smiled wider and pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back soothingly. "I know, baby, I know. It'll be okay."

Number One buried his face into Grace's chest, shaking slightly. "Scary…"

She pushed his hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "No one's going to hurt you."


	29. House hunters and homewreckers

"Your boobs are soft," Diego mumbled, wrapping the blanket around himself. 

"You're so gross," Eudora said, leaning back in bed. 

Diego nuzzled his head into her chest. "I love you."

Eudora pressed a kiss to his permanently closed eyelid. "I love you too. You gonna be nice to your dad?"

He huffed. "Don't talk about my dad with your shirt off."

She reached over and pulled on Diego's hoodie before curling up next to him again. "Be nice to your dad, Diego." Eudora poked his nose. "You can't be a bitch to him forever."

Diego rolled over and hunched in on himself. "Yes I can and I absolutely will. I hate him."

Eudora nuzzled her head into his shoulder. "I love you and your dad is a very sweet man."

He scowled. "I'm not going to listen to you anymore. Unless you say more nice sweet things to me."

Eudora wrapped her arms around his waist. "Your family is beautiful and you need to reevaluate how much you hate your dad. Lupo is a sweetheart."

Diego huffed and rolled back to look at her. "Call him his first name. We have the same last name, Dora."

She pulled away and propped himself up on her elbows. "Is this a bipolar thing?"

He rolled his eye and sat up. "No, Eudora. And it's not a Latino thing either."

Eudora laughed awkwardly and leaned against the wall. "Hon, I'm Latino too. And are we really having a conversation about this under a sexy weed lady blanket in a room that smells like old lady perfume?"

"The perfume smell masks the weed smell," Diego huffed, leaning his head against her chest. 

She pressed a kiss to his head. "You smell like cookies."

"Grace masks me cookies," He mumbled, taking her hands. 

"Grace is…" Eudora mumbled before trailing off. 

Diego looked up at her. "Grace what?"

"She's dating…"

"What?"

Eudora laughed awkwardly and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Grace is dating your dad."

"What?" Diego yelled, pulling away from her. 

"Grace is dating-"

"I heard!" He yelled louder. 

* * *

Art therapy day was always uncomfortable but it was especially uncomfortable when Diego was openly glaring at Grace and shredding paper. 

She had heard Diego's outburst and had been openly been yelled at for almost three minutes before he started crying and ran out of the room. 

Grace smiled brightly and took a sip from her tea. "So how's everyone's art going?"

Vanya held up a watercolor painting that was mostly black, grey and purple. "It's traumatic experiences in abstract."

The older woman smiled and nodded. "That looks beautiful, dear."

Diego held up a drawing of what was very obviously Grace. "I drew a whore. A home wrecking whore."

Grace smiled uncomfortably. "That's… um… as long as you're not planning harmful actions, I think that's okay… that you feel… like I'm… that thing."

"I think you're a stray up hottie," Klaus offered, looking up from his sketch of four rats eating a cheese pizza. 

Grace looked more uncomfortable than before. "Alright Klaus, well then uh, what did you draw, Ben?"

Ben rolled his eyes and held up a picture of very white tentacles surrounded by green goo. 

"Very pretty, dear. Is that a good feeling or a bad feeling?" 

Ben pressed a few buttons on his alternative communication device and it said "bad" seven times. 

Number One held up a drawing of three cats in princess dresses. "Kitties!" 

Grace smiled sweetly. "Aww, that's sweet."

Diego rolled his eye. "Those are bullshit cats."

One's smile faded and he put his drawing down. "Sorry daddy…" he mumbled, folding up the kittens and tucking it into his pocket. He'd put it in his secret drawing place where he hid all the drawings his daddy thought were bad. 

"I'm not your dad, fucker," Diego huffed, pushing his chair over as he got to his feet. "If I was your dad, I'd fucking ruin your life, like daddies fucking do!"

Vanya and Klaus exchanged a look as Diego left the room and Grace sighed, pouring herself more tea. 

Ben patted One's shoulder, trying to comfort him before he started crying. 

"Are you okay?" Vanya asked. 

Number One smiled awkwardly and took a sip from his milk. "I'm happy and I like bees. Bees, bees, bees…" 

Grace patted his hand. "Do you want some applesauce?"

* * *

Five sat next One and handed him a sippy cup full of apple juice. "You will emotionally recover, Luther."

He shook his head and curled up in Grace's bed. "My daddy hates me."

Five sighed and pulled Luther into a sitting position. "Drink your juice."

He sniffled and took a sip from the sippy cup, sniffling. "Everyone is awful."

"Diego is not your daddy. Diego is sad about his father having sex with my mother. My never married mother and his dad who's been divorced for ten years." Five took a sip from his coffee and leaned against the back of the bed.

"What's sex?" Luther asked. 

"Right, I forgot you're a man baby. She's doing what would make a baby with him but for fun. Because they like each other and stuff," Five explained, drinking more coffee. "Drink more juice. Juice makes you happy."

He drank more juice before leaving his head against Five's shoulder. "Are they going to have a baby?"

Five rolled his eyes. "No. They're not going to have a baby because Lupo can't make babies anymore."

Luther nodded like he understood and hugged Pogo to his chest. "Lupo reminds me of daddy."

Five cackled and turned on the TV. "Your dad's a cunt. Let's watch house hunters."

Luther fell asleep after a few hours with his head in Five's shoulder. Five very gently pushed him off and tucked Pogo under Luther's arms before curling up under the blankets too. 

Grace leaned against the door frame and smiled. "I'm glad you two are getting along now."

Five rolled his eyes. "He's fine. We've all been on the wrong side of Diego's mental health."

Grace's smile turned sad and she sat down next to him. "I love you, you know that? Even if I, you know?"

"Obviously," Five huffed. "I don't care that you have a friend with benefits."

Grace pressed a kiss to her son's head. "He's my boyfriend, honey."

"Awwww, are you in love?" He deadpanned. 

She smiled, blushing slightly. "Um, I might be…" 


	30. Family therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did a little editing and updating for other chapters

Diego knew his parents were divorced, obviously, but he had never handled it well. He had completely lost his shit when his mom had told him news and he consistently re-lost his shit everytime it was brought up. 

Diego liked to think he was over it but he very obviously wasn't to everyone who knew him. Vanya had seen him cry a few times over it and he still bitched about his father whenever he was brought up. He loved his almost nuclear family very much and it was supposed to stay together forever. 

Maria Chavéz and Albert Lupo were not the best or most traditional relationship. Trans and interacial relationships were still iffy in the 80s so it had taken them a while to be together safely. 

Diego took a long time to come around finally. Maria was infertile and they couldn't find a sperm donor who wasn't a total asshole, so it took years for them to finally conceive. Lupo and Maria finally combined their eggs and thus made the cutest little boy ever as they both agreed.

They were very much in love with each other but their entire relationship rested on Diego after a few years. Lupo was never around since he was working almost constantly and Maria could commit to children but not to men. Maria thought pregnancy made Lupo an asshole and he thought that she had stopped being attracted to him after he had been curb stomped. Maria had stopped being attracted to him, yes but not because Lupo had his teeth smashed out on the pavement. 

They had been fighting for a while but their marriage finally came to an end after Diego lost his eye. Just because they loved their son didn't mean they loved each other. 

Diego stabbed his pencil into the table, glaring at his father. Family therapy was some bullshit as Diego liked to call it. He could deal with his family by ignoring them and pretending to do drugs. 

Lupo covered his face with one hand, cigarette in the other. "Can we get this over with?"

"Is that what you said about your marriage?" Diego huffed, pulling the pencil out of the wood and snapping it in half. 

Maria smiled slightly as Lupo got up from his chair. "I'm going to go smoke."

"Like always," she added. 

Their therapist sighed and made a note on his notebook. "Are you family conversations always like this?"

Vanya cracked open her red bull. "Yeah, they're always like that."

"Are you uh, are you his sister?" The therapist asked. 

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink, putting her feet up on the table. "He wishes. Nah, I'm too white."

Diego poked her legs off the table. "You're way too white. Not to be my sister, just for reasons."

Vanya huffed and moved her legs back into the floor. "You're an asshole."

"Why do you drink energy drinks? You never, like…" he trailed off and looked out the window. 

"Because I don't walk?" Vanya asked, going to climb out of her wheelchair. 

Maria closed her eyes and started grumbling under her breath in Spanish, rubbing her temples. 

The therapist started writing down stuff somewhat frantically. He glanced at Maria. "Is your son always like this?"

She nodded. "He's a handful."

Diego hunched in on himself, still looking out the window. "I'm not a handful."

Lupo opened the door and slouched into the nearest chair. "Let's finish this. I know, Diego, that's what I said about my marriage."

Diego smiled and looked away from the window, drumming his fingers on his knees. 

His father smiled slightly and glanced at Vanya, who was chugging her red bull like her life depending on it. "Why are you here, Miss Peabody?"

Vanya made a sound in her throat and crushed her can. "Because I'm the only person here who likes you, Homeboy."

* * *

"How was family therapy?" Grace asked awkwardly as Diego reentered the house. 

He ignored her and threw his bag onto the table, papers and a broken pencil falling out of it. Staring at the floor, Diego pushed past Grace and trudged up the stairs to his room. There was the sound of a door slamming shut and something hitting something. 

Vanya rolled her eyes as she wheeled into the entrance room, hanging her coat up on the lower hook Grace had added for her. "He's going through it, Miss Hargreeves."

Grace nodded, pulling the door closed behind her. "And how are you?"

She shrugged. "Leonard's being a cunt, but y'know."

Grace frowned slightly. "Uh, language, sweetheart, but that's- that's too bad."

Vanya nodded, climbing out of her wheelchair after some effort and pulling herself into a barstool with Grace's arm. "I want a new foster dad."

She pulled a pitcher of ice tea out of the fridge and set it down on the kitchen island with two glasses, pouring one for Vanya. "Talk to me, baby."

Vanya took the cup from Grace and took a sip. "I just… he's y'know. He's whatever." She stared into the glass, drumming her fingers on the side. 

She nodded, taking Vanya's hand. "Families are tough."

Vanya scowled. "He's not really my family. I just live at his house and he makes me food."

"I do that for Five," Grace pointed out, adjusting her headband. "I like to think we're family."

Vanya still scowled, glaring down at her baby pink Jordan high tops and kicking them against the chair legs. "Yeah but like. I'd rather just live here with you and Diego and stuff."

Grace smiled and squeezed her hand. "I love you, honey, and you're always welcome to stay here but you can't just leave your dad."

Vanya scrunched her nose. "Boo. Why don't I just move in with Lupo and we can hang out after you guys smush?"

Grace frowned and lightly smacked Vanya's hand. "You watch yourself, missy. I don't tell your dad about you and that stripey haired lady, so don't you talk about me."

She smiled and squeezed Grace's hand. "You'd better not."

Grace pressed a kiss to the younger girl's forehead. "You ready to go back home next week?"


	31. Exploited Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some kind of child abuse, you know how it goes

Luther looked up from the armchair he was sitting in, blanket wrapped around himself. "You're leaving? Forever?"

Vanya chuckled as she packed yet another pair of pastel pink shoes into her bag next to the pink vans, pink Jordans, pink stripper heels and pink bat creepers. "Well I'll visit y'all but I'm going to Leonard's for a while."

Luther nodded. "Who's Leonard?"

"The old weird man I live with."

"Like your daddy?"

Vanya snorted and then coughed. "God no, holy fuck. He's my foster… person thing. He just gets paid to watch me."

The bedroom door opened to reveal Allison and Luther beamed at her. "Hey, guys. Vanya, these were in the wash." She threw a pair of pants onto her bed. 

Vanya threw them to Luther. "You keep them. They make your thigh gap look dope."

He hugged them to his chest. "I like pants."

Allison sat down on the end of the bed, starting to fold shirts. "So are you and your dad going to do anything to celebrate you coming home?"

"Other than setting up my ankle monitor I don't think so," Vanya snickered. "Maybe go shopping for maternity pants."

Allison stopped halfway between folding a tank top that said PISS BOYZ on it in pink text. "You're pregnant?"

She rolled her eyes and lifted up her shirt to reveal a pill-shaped belly button piercing. "Do I look fucking pregnant? It's because normal pants ride up and hurt when you sit in a wheelchair all day."

Allison pulled Vanya's top down. "Vanya, don't- be a lady!"

She cackled and pulled away from Allison. "I'm not a lady, I'm a rat boy."

Luther giggled and kept folding clothes, scooching closer to lean his head against Allison's legs. "I love you."

She patted his head awkwardly. "Okay, kiddo."

He smiled and hugged Allison's legs. "So much."

* * *

Vanya scowled at Leonard's truck as it pulled into the driveway, crossing her arms over her chest. That truck meant nothing good. At least her last foster parent had a wheelchair accessible minivan and wasn't a total freak. 

Grace squeezed Vanya's shoulder. "We'll miss you, Vanya."

She rolled her eyes. "What if I just smoked crack in a public park? Then you'll see me again."

Grace laughed lightly, watching Leonard climbing out of his car. "I hope not, dear. Please stay clean."

"I'm currently hungover, Hargreeves. Don't count on it."

Leonard beamed at Vanya as he approached the house. "Hi Vanya, I missed you."

Vanya scratched her ear with her metallic fingernail. "Yeah, because you're a preppy freak."

He smiled awkwardly at Grace. "She's a funny kid. Anyways, thank you for watching her, Mrs Hargreeves."

"Miss Hargreeves," She corrected, "And you're so welcome."

Vanya made a gagging sound and wheeled herself down the ramp. "Let's go, my nintendogs won't feed themselves!"

After Leonard helped Vanya into the passengers seat and put her wheelchair in the box, he started the truck. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Vanya put her earbuds in and leaned her head against the window, humming loudly to the Nirvana song.

Leonard smiled tightly, catching the hint. "Alright, kiddo. Well I've been cleaning your room and what not- finally got the marijuana smell out of your sheets and washed your curtains. It looks really cute now."

Vanya glanced at him for a few seconds before looking back out the window. Cute was a dumb bitch word that she didn't trust from Leonard. Cute was what old people said to sound like they were born this millennium. "Did you throw out my cocaine?"

Leonard laughed and gave her a look. "You're kidding, right?"

Vanya returned his look with a withering one of her own. "Why would I do cocaine when I can experience the high of wearing maternity pants at seventeen?"

"Alright, you're joking." He patted her arm. "You look very not pregnant, kiddo. Just saying."

She made a point of zipping up her hoodie and turning her music up.

Vanya scowled at her bedroom through the door. The door was too small for her to fit her electric wheelchair so she had to park it in the hall and wheel in with her other one. She flopped onto the bed and straightened her shirt, scowling at the ceiling. 

One of her legs dangled off the bed and Vanya huffed. The most annoying part of selective paralysis was when one leg worked perfectly and the other did nothing. 

Leonard knocked on the door before opening it. "You doing okay, honey?"

Vanya scowled. "Yeah, just peachy and paralyzed. You want anything or what?"

He sat down on the end of her bed and lifted Vanya's leg back onto the bed. "Do you want to go out for dinner tonight or get take out?"

"I can't walk, stupid."

Leonard smiled tightly. "Vanya, you don't have to always be unpleasant."

She huffed and pulled her legs into a sitting position. "I'm pleasant as fuck, you're just a fucking bitch I hate."

Sighing, Leonard got to his feet and grabbed Vanya's arm. "Watch your language."

"Let go, asshole!" Vanya snapped, pulling her arm to her chest. She hated being touched and got angry to the point of aggression when her privacy was violated. 

Leonard glared at Vanya for a few seconds from his position above her before releasing her arm and leaving the room. As soon as the door was closed, Vanya curled up into herself and dug her nails hard into her legs. Since she mostly lacked feeling in her legs, clawing at them was one of the main ways she dealt with stress. That and weed. 

After a few minutes of drawing blood from her legs, she pulled her cellphone out of her back pocket. "Diego?" She mumbled, head between her knees. There was silence on the other end of the line and Vanya rubbed at her eyes hard with her free hand. "Diego?"

* * *

Diego's phone started ringing just as Eudora had started kissing his neck, pushing him up against her bedroom wall. She pulled away and wiped her mouth. "You should get that."

"It's probably a telemarketer," Diego mumbled, running his hands through her hair. 

Eudora pulled away and grabbed his phone off her bedside table. "Yeah, I'm sure Vanny with a guitar and a dog emoji is a telemarketer."

He sighed and took his phone from Eudora before answering it, leaning his head against her chest. "What, Vanya?"

There was a sniffle on the other side of the phone. "Diego?" Vanya asked, voice shaking. 

He sat up, free hand tightening into a fist. "Did someone touch you?"

She sobbed through the phone, breath shaky. "I wanna- go, go home…" 

"Shhh, Vanny, it's okay," Diego said, trying to calm her. 

Eudora leaned her head over his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Do you need me to come pick you up? I'm at Dora's house but you can come over and watch romcoms with her or whatever girls do."

Vanya made a choked noise in her throat. "Please pick me up." 


	32. Breaking, Entering and Abduction

Forty minutes later, Diego pulled up in front of Leonard's weird forest cabin in Eudora's Volvo and climbed out of the car. After slamming the car door shut behind him, Diego stomped over to the front door. He had tried to dress as badass and scary as he could, with his leather jacket, his coolest eye patch and one of Lupo's cigarettes dangling from his lips. 

Diego kicked hard on the front door, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and leaning against the door frame. 

Leonard opened the door after a few seconds and looked up at Diego. "Can I help you?"

He took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth and dropped it on the doorstep. "I'm here for Vanya."

Leonard looked down at the cigarette before looking back up at Diego. "She's sleeping."

He took a step closer to Leonard, putting his arm against the door. "It's not even seven yet."

"She's disabled, you know how they are. Weak body means she needs to sleep a lot." Leonard said in the most annoying tone of voice. "She needs her rest."

They stared each other down before Diego stomped the cigarette into the doormat and walked back to the car. He started the Volvo's engine but instead of driving away, pulled the car around to the back of the cabin. After putting the car in park, Diego slunk to the backdoor and put his foot against it, testing the wood before ramming his shoulder into it. 

The wood didn't give, obviously, because doors were made to keep weird men on the other side. After a few more kicks, Diego huffed and moved to the nearest window. He climbed up onto the windowsill and head-butted it as hard as possible, shattering the glass. Scratching his arms and face open on the broken window, Diego fell onto the floor and into the glass. 

Vanya looked up from where she was curled up on the floor. "It would have been so easy to get in the backdoor. I know, title of your sex tape, but it would have been."

Diego rolled his eyes, pulling the glass shards out of his arms and cheeks. "I tried kicking it open."

"You're an idiot," Vanya huffed but she was smiling. 

He smiled back. "You wanna get out of here? We don't have to use the window this time." 

She tried to get to her feet and failed, falling awkwardly on her leg. Vanya scowled and kicked out her one working leg. Her pants leg rode up to reveal bruises on her shins and her scowl darkened. 

Diego's eyes narrowed as he crouched down next to Vanya. "I'll kill him, I swear I will."

"I don't-" Vanya kicked her right leg hard against the floor. "I don't want your pity, Diego." She rubbed hard at her eyes, fighting back angry tears. 

"Do you need me to get your wheelchair?" He asked, pulling her pant leg back down. 

"No, I just- I just want to leave."

"Can I carry you, then?"

Vanya clenched her fists hard before wrapping her arms around Diego's neck. "Fine. But only because you're my favorite vampire boy."

He scooped Vanya into a shoulder hold, making sure not to irritate her bruises. "You want to throw rocks at sex offenders windows?"

She leaned her head against Diego's shoulder as he carried her out to the car. "I want to throw rocks at Leonard." Vanya fell asleep on the car ride to Eudora's apartment, curled up in the backseat. 

Diego carried her up the stairs and set Vanya down on the bed next to Eudora. She tucked Vanya's hair behind her ears and took out the smaller girl's dangly ears. "What happened to her?"

Diego plopped down next to his girlfriend and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "That's her shit to tell."

Eudora kissed his nose. "You're a good man, Diego."

"I do my best."

* * *

"I'm glad we could do this," Grace said, setting a bottle of wine in the ice bucket on the dinner table. "We never do dinner."

Lupo took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Me too. I mean, what with Five and Diego and the rest of the kids…" he laughed lightly and moved his hand off the table. 

She smiled and got to her feet after the oven beeped. "And that's the stir fry." When Grace came back with the dish, Lupo was on the phone, looking distressed. 

Grace set the stir fry on the table and sat down across from him. "What's wrong?"

"Dammit, why does he- how the bloody hell did Diego get another fucking kidnapping charge?" Lupo huffed, hunched over the table. 

Grace's smile faded as she slumped in her chair across from him. "Is he okay?"

Lupo held up his hand. "No, dammit,he didn't kidnap her. They're friends, Topo's just bipolar. He doesn't understand things but he's trying."

Grace frowned and tugged on one of her curls awkwardly. She didn't want Diego to get in trouble but she wanted to have a date with her boyfriend that wasn't interrupted by one of their children doing something stupid. Usually Five or Luther having a nightmare but occasionally, someone getting arrested for breaking, entering and abduction of a minor. 

* * *

Leonard leaned against the police station wall, staring down at Vanya who was curled up in one of the chairs. "Don't give me that look."

Vanya crossed her arms and glared at him. "Then stop calling the police on my friends."

Leonard sighed and sat down next to her, taking her chin in his hand. "I want you to stop seeing that boy."

She pulled her head away. "I'm a lesbian, stupid. He's just a friend."

"Every girl says they're a lesbian so they can have sleepovers with boys," Leonard said like he knew what the fuck he was talking about. 

Vanya scowled hard, fighting back tears. "God, I hate you. You're- you're such an asshole."

He sighed and wiped her eyes. "Shhh, honey, shhh. You're okay, you just need a nice hot bath and a nap."


	33. Methematics and mathamphetamine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard is a freak, Vanya is a lesbian and Klaus does meth

Diego looked up from the holding cell as Lupo walked in, looking pissed but mostly sad and disappointed. He sat down across from his son and sighed. "Diego, I- breaking and entering, really?" 

Diego glared at his father and slammed his hands on the table. "He's fucking hurting Vanya! He's probably- he's- he's-"

Lupo held up his hand. "Picture the words, okay? You've got this."

Diego shook his head hard, grabbing at his hair. "He's, he's…" he scratched hard at his face by his missing eye before Lupo pulled his hand away. 

"Leave your eye, Topolino." He let Diego dig his nails into hand, ignoring the tiny stabbing pains. 

Diego hunched in on himself, freaking out slightly when he couldn't claw at his body. "He's hurting Vanya and I, I think he's-" he started to pull at his eye patch before Lupo took his other hand. 

"I know, topo, you're worried about your friend but you don't have any proof," he sighed. "And you were trespassing."

"He's a perv," Diego mumbled, trying to wiggle his hands away. "I know he is."

"You can know that, but you don't have proof. I can look into it once I ask him to drop the charges against you, okay?" Lupo asked, squeezing Diego's hand. 

He pulled his hands into his lap and scowled down at them. "Fine."

"Good," His father said, getting to his feet. "Sit tight."

Vanya pulled her hoodie up over her head and leaned against the car window, keeping her legs turned away from Leonard. She hadn't talked since we left the police station and she wasn't planning on talking anytime soon. Silent protesting was a thing, right? Vanya thought back to the last social studies class she had attended, trying to remember what the juvie teacher had said about protesting. The only thing she could remember from that class is when a boy tried to steal the back wheels off her wheelchair. 

At least anti disability crimes were more comforting to think about than Diego in a holding cell because of her. Vanya glared at Leonard's reflection in the side mirror and imagined him getting stabbed violently. Smiling slightly, she snuggled into her sweater and closed her eyes. Hopefully Leonard would choke to death in his sleep. Or would it be her sleep if he died while Vanya was sleeping?

Vanya woke up to someone poking her in the stomach and whined, rolling over. "Go back to bed, Luther, I'm tired…"

"Who the hell is Luther?" The worst voice in the universe snapped. 

Vanya scowled and pulled her hoodie tightly around herself. Leonard had brought her to the living room couch while she slept in the car. "He's a- he's none of your business."

Leonard sighed and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. "You know I'm just looking out for you, Vanya. All I want is for you to be safe."

She could feel his violin calluses. "Yeah, is that why you called the police on her best friend?"

"Your best friend is a criminal who broke into my house, Vanya. He's dangerous." Leonard gave her the condescending look he saved for whenever she had a valid complaint.

"You're dangerous," Vanya mumbled, pulling her hood up again. 

"Excuse me?" He asked, his voice getting weird and scary. 

She shook her head hard. "Nothing, I'm just… I'm just hungry." It was always easier to play dumb with Leonard rather than fight back. 

He stared Vanya down for a few seconds before touching her hair. "Fine. You'd look so much better if you left your hair alone and let it grow out."

Vanya ran her hands through her hair to spike it back up. She hadn't done her hair in a while so the gel and hairspray had lost their volume. "It's punk. Defying gender norms and shit."

Leonard laughed and patted Vanya's cheek. "Alright, honey. How I order you some poutine and a peach iced tea?"

She made a point to wipe her cheek and tried getting up. Vanya's legs were being bullshit so she climbed off the couch and butt scooted towards the wheelchair in the corner. 

"Do you need help?" Leonard asked, moving to grab her arm. 

Vanya lifted herself into her wheelchair and raised her eyebrows. "I've been disabled for five years, I know how to get in my chair." 

Twenty minutes later, She was sitting alone in her room with a container of poutine on her thighs, cellphone in hand and her pants on the floor. Diego wasn't responding to her texts because y'know, jail and Five wasn't allowed a phone anymore. Something to do with online orders and being stalked. Vanya scrolled through her contacts before noticing a text from the blonde girl in her sewing therapy group who thinks she's in 1960s Dallas Texas. She's hot in a psychotic cottage lesbian way and she makes her own lace. 

Vanya smiled to herself and opened the bedside drawer. When she had ripped her jeans, Sissy offered to sew them and once she fixed the rip Sissy had cross stitched violets on the back pockets. Vanya hadn't worn them since but she slept with them under her pillow. Violets were a gay thing and that meant she was into Vanya, right? 

The door opened and Vanya shoved the jeans back in the drawer. "What the fuck do you want, Leonard?"

He held out the landline to her. "Grace wants to talk to you."

Vanya held out her hand, opening and closing it. "I can't walk, cunt."

He sat down on the bed next to Vanya and set his hand on her thigh after giving her the phone. 

Vanya tried to move her leg away as she took the phone. "What the fuck do you want Grace?"

"Oh dear, um. Hi sweetheart," she said awkwardly. "I have a request."

"What do you want?" Vanya's legs were not moving.

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to help integrate Luther into his basic skills class. Just because they're at the community center you did your community service, dear."

"Why? Because Diego's been arrested because of some-" Leonard's hand tightened "-guy and Klaus is the poster boy for meth abuse?"

Grace's smile tightened and she straightened her skirt absentmindedly. "I suppose, dear. Plus Luther likes you and you're the only one he's comfortable talking to."

Vanya sighed and flopped back against her pillows, phone still in hand. "Alright. I need a hobby anyways. What's space boy gonna learn?"

"Well he's already pretty good with the alphabet and spelling but his father uh, he never wanted Luther to understand math or anything. So I think that'll be the main thing."


	34. Lesbians and psychology torture

"Can I wear a dress?"

Grace looked up from her tea to see Luther holding a pink babydoll dress. "To your classes?"

He held the dress out towards her. "Mmhm!"

Grace took a closer look at the dress to see that a very unpleasant word was written on the front in silver cursive. "Oh, um. How about not one of Klaus' dresses, hm?" 

She got to her feet and gently took the dress from him, taking his hand in hers. "How about you borrow one of my dresses?"

"Okay," Luther chirped, bouncing to Grace's room happily. 

Grace followed him and looked down, noticing that his shorts had "Attack and Dethrone God" written on the ass. She should really lock the door on Klaus' bedroom when he was at AA. 

Grace held a long sleeve white dress with peaches on it in front of him. "I think that's perfect."

Luther looked down at the dress and nodded. "It's pretty! Do I have to wear shoes?"

"Yes honey," Grace sighed. "You have to wear shoes whenever you leave the house."

He frowned and sat down on the baby pink tufted ottoman. "I don't like shoes." Pouting slightly, Luther hunched his shoulders and looked up at Grace with his puppy face. "Do I have to wear shoes?"

She squatted down to his height and set her hands on his knees. "Yes, honey. But I got you light-up Skechers. Do you want light-up Skechers?"

Luther hesitated before looking up at her. "What colour?"

"Purple."

He finally nodded and smiled. "Okay!"

Five looked up when Luther and Grace left her bedroom, setting his book down on the table. "That's way better than the booty shorts."

Luther beamed and twirled, the skirt flaring out around his spindle-like legs. The crinoline made his legs look tiny and the tightness of the top made him look more emaciated than ever. "Thank you. It's swishy."

Five scratched hard at his cheek. "It is indeed. Grace, get him some fucking McDonald’s or something."

"Language," Grace chided and poked his nose. "I'll see what Vanya and he want after class." She turned to Luther. "Do you have everything?"

He nodded and held up Pogo. That was all he had ever needed before and that was all he wanted now. 

Her lips pinched together and straightened her blouse. "I'm sure they'll provide everything you need there, honey."

Luther smiled and hugged Pogo to his chest, nuzzling his face into the soft fur. "Can we visit daddy after?"

Five snorted and covered the bottom half of his face with his book. "I'm sorry, I just-" he laughed, wiping at his eyes. "He was wearing Klaus' Daddy dress earlier-" 

Grace snapped her fingers at him. "Favio!"

He scowled. "Five! It's fucking Five."

Luther flinched and shoved his hands into the dress pockets. He wiggled his hands in the pockets, completely distracted. "Pockets!" 

Grace frowned and adjusted her pink Alice band. "Five, watch your mouth, please. And behave while I'm out."

Five continued glaring at his foster mother and picked his book back up, flipping open to his marked page. "Favio. Ugh."

Grace rolled her eyes as she led Luther to the car. Vanya rolled down the passenger's seat window and stuck her tongue out, showing her pill piercing. She had many, many piercings and chose to put her pill tongue barbells in most of them. Even though the 

"Space Boy!" She cackled. "What's good?"

Luther bounced over to Vanya and hugged her. "I love you."

She pressed her forehead to his before poking his nose. "Alright, kiddo. You ready for shit?"

Grace smiled as she got into the driver's seat. "Language, dear. Can you buckle yourself in by yourself, Luther?"

He nodded and after a few seconds of struggling, the seatbelt clicked. After nearly twenty-nine years of life without cars, Luther’s understanding of them was fairly good. 

Summer school was different than he had expected. Luther had a very basic understanding of social interactions so he was grateful for Vanya’s company but he would have preferred his daddy. Even after everything Grace had tried to tell him, Reginald was still the person Luther preferred above most. 

He walked into the classroom, clinging to Vanya's arm. She was able to walk today and was using her rollator for the first time in a while. Even when she could walk without it, she used it to put her shit on it. 

There were only three other students in the room. A little boy whose skin looked grey with a nasogastric tube taped to his face, an extremely skinny blonde girl with scabs all over her pale skin and a tiny black girl with box braids tied into pigtails. 

The blonde girl looked up at Vanya as they entered the room and waved excitedly. 

She raised her hand in response. "Hey Sissy. How's Harlan?"

Sissy held up her very vintage baby carrier. "Sleeping. Who's the little lady?"

Luther giggled and stepped out from behind Vanya. "I'm not a lady."

"Just a very handsome boy," Grace said, patting his shoulder. She turned to the teacher. "Can you handle him?"

The teacher, a perky looking black woman with her curls tied back in a ponytail. "It's my job, Momma Hargreeves."

Grace grabbed Vanya's shoulder. "You have my number if you need anything, okay? There's snacks in your bag and so is Luther's medicine, Inspector Lupo's number, poison control and Eudora's number if you need anything."

She rolled her eyes and moved away. "Yeah, Grace, I got it. No one's gonna die here."

Grace pressed a kiss to her cheek and then Luther's. "Be safe."

The teacher smiled at them after Grace left. "Good to see you again, Vanya and welcome, Luther. My name is Dr. Kat."

"Meow," He said and Dr. Kat laughed lightly. 

"Yeah, like that. You can sit next to Christopher." She nodded towards the tiny boy sitting on the blue bean bag chair beside Sissy. 

Luther had never been in a classroom before so he didn't know that this one was set up strangely. Bean bags instead of chairs, one big low table instead of desks, only five students, a baby. All of the movies about school he had watched had desks, many students and only white people. 

"I like your hair," Luther said to the girl with box braids. 

She smiled and pushed her braids over her shoulder. "I like your dress."

He smoothed his skirt. "Thank you. You look like my friend Allison."

Vanya poked his arm. "Luther you can't say that."

"Allison's my mom," The girl assured her and Vanya raised her eyebrows. 

"Claire, right?"

She nodded. "Yup."

They all went around and introduced themselves. Claire's favourite colour was purple, Sissy was "living her best life as a single mother in 1968," Christopher had no concept of his physical form and Vanya was a lesbian. He still wasn't sure what a lesbian was. 

Vanya was nice though, and if she was a lesbian, Luther liked lesbians. 

Dr. Kat set different art and stationery supplies in the middle of the table. Luther had never seen so much art supplies and he had certainly never been allowed so much. Scissors, pencils, crayons, different colours of paper and more. 

After giving everyone some, Dr. Kat sat down on the only chair. "Alright, you are going to be describing your favorite memory. You can draw it or write about."

Luther chewed on the edge of his sleeve, thinking. This was going to be harder than he thought. He had a lot of favourite memories, nearly all of them about Reginald. But if he had to pick?

His favorite memory would have to when his daddy came home after a very long trip. 

Luther had started keeping track of the days he had been gone but after a little over a week, he lost count. Reginald usually only left for three or four days at a time and by day six, Luther was panicking slightly. He was always paranoid but his fears intensified when he was left alone.

Luther rarely left his crib and stopped eating entirely during the tenth day alone. Pogo had started talking though, which was interesting. He never talked anymore. 

A few days later, Number One woke up to two callused hands on his stomach. He whined and rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow. "Mmh?"

"Wake up, Space boy," the most amazing sounding voice One had ever heard said. 

He opened his eyes, struggling to sit up. His daddy was sitting on the floor next to his bed. Tearing up, Number One hugged Reginald as tightly as he could, sobbing into his shoulder. 

"Calm down, my boy," He said, scratching his fingers through One's hair. "You're safe."

Sniffling, Number One looked up. "Are you real?"

Reginald used his thumb to wipe away the boy's tears. "Does that feel real?"

He nodded shakily and hugged his father again, chewing on the older man's blazer. One's nose was running and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He had never missed anyone more than he did right now. 

Reginald slowly extricated Number One from him and made a face at the shoulder of his jacket. "Ah, that's…" He dabbed at the fabric with a handkerchief for a few seconds before sighing and cleaning One's face instead. "Poor little thing. You really need some TLC, hm? How about a bath?"

Number One nodded, wiping at his streaming eyes. "Okay daddy."

Everyone in the classroom stared at Luther, unblinking. Vanya raised her heavily penciled eyebrows and a crayon fell out of Claire's mouth. 

"That's your favorite memory?" Sissy asked, gently taking his hand in hers.


	35. The Only Good Father Figure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupo does his very best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://uquiz.com/l56O0k
> 
> I made a quiz so you can find out which character you are

Lupo had started staying at Grace's house on weekends. Her house was closer to the station than his and it was much nicer to wake up to a day of nothing with a beautiful woman next to him. Or, on days like today, to fall asleep in Grace's bed after the night shift while she got dressed for the day. 

After getting up at around 2 pm, Lupo was sitting at one of the barstools in the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee. Five plopped into the chair across from him and slapped a pile of papers between both of them. 

"Good day, Officer, a moment of your time?" Five asked, shuffling the papers into a neat pile. 

"I, uh-" Lupo looked up from the coffee maker. "Is this an interview? And it's inspector, not- nevermind."

The boy flipped through the papers and set one on top. "Something like that. Please have a seat."

Lupo poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Five. "Alright kiddo, shoot."

"Excellent. What are your intentions with my mother?"

Lupo blinked. "My intentions- you've never called Grace your mother before." He smiled as he took a sip of his coffee. "That's adorable."

Five glared at Lupo and grabbed the coffee mug from him. "You watch your mouth. What are your intentions with Grace?"

Lupo laughed and poured himself another cup of coffee. "To love and support her, I guess. She's a hell of a woman and I'm just here for the ride."

Five marked something on the paper. "Points off for the sexual innuendo, mentioning hell and indecisiveness. She's Catholic, Sergeant, seriously."

Lupo blinked. "Does anyone understand police titles?"

Grace stepped into the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of tea. "What are we talking about?"

Five took a sip from the coffee he stole from Lupo. "Your boyfriend is a heretic. Good day, Grace." He got up from his chair and smoothed his blazer before leaving the room. 

Grace sat down next to Lupo and kissed his temple. "Are you a heretic?" 

"I said hell."

Grace hummed to herself. "I say hell sometimes. So what are your intentions with me?"

He tucked Grace's hair behind her ear. "Well I love you and what not." Lupo pressed a kiss to her cheek. "My intention right now is to put up Diego's bail, you wanna come with?"

"He won't try to choke me or something? Kick my ass?"

"Not as long as he's in his handcuffs, amore."

Diego put his feet up on the holding cell wall, watching the officer sitting at the desk. He was a white guy with a military cut looking at the computer on his desk. If racism had a face. 

"Have you ever shot anyone?" Diego asked, getting up and leaning against the bars. "Like with a gun."

The cop ignored him and clicked something on his computer. 

"You work for my dad, yeah?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the bars. "I bet he could have you fired for this."

"Shut up, kid," the cop huffed, not looking up from his computer screen. 

"What happens if I start dying here?" 

No response. 

Diego exhaled loudly and flopped onto the bench. It was a lot harder than he expected. Sitting up, he rubbed at his back and winced. "You guys should really update your cells. This is like a Geneva convention violation." Diego pulled his knees up to his chest, staring at the cop. 

The cop clicked on a tab and looked up. "Your bail's been posted, Lupo." He got to his feet and unlocked the cell. "Get up."

Diego scowled and got to his feet, following the guard out to the waiting room. "Can I have my shoes back?"

Grace and his father were sitting next to each other, Grace holding a plastic bag full of Diego's belongings and Lupo looking pissed. Lupo went to get up but was stopped by Grace grabbing his shoulder. 

"You okay, sweetie?" She asked, getting up and taking Diego's hand with her free one. 

He pulled his hand away and took the bag. "I have a bruise on my ass," Diego huffed as he started putting his shoes on. He threw the cigarette pack to Lupo. "Yours."

He shoved the cigarettes into his jacket pocket. "How'd you get these?"

"Dug through your car," Diego said simply, pulling his leather jacket on and eye patch back on. "Do I have to go to court?"

"Obviously. You ready to go home?" Lupo huffed in his classic annoyed old man voice. 

The drive home was very awkward. Most situations involving Lupo and Diego were but the addition of Grace made it much more tense. 

Lupo drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled up to a red light. "I got threatened by a little boy today."

Diego's face barely changed but there was the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Five?"

Grace laughed lightly. "He had an interview set up and everything. Called your father a heretic."

He smiled slightly. "When was the last time you went to church?"

The light turned green and Lupo began driving again. "Uh, when I married your mother, I think."

"Was that the last time you went to the gym too?" Diego asked and Grace covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

Lupo gave him a look in the rearview mirror. "You watch yourself, boy. I'll make you walk home."

Diego snickered and slouched back in his seat. "There's a joke somewhere in there."

When they reached Grace's house, she pressed a kiss to Lupo's cheek. "I'll see you later, hon- Albert."

Diego grimaced. "God I forgot your name was so lame. You could pick any name for yourself and you picked Albert?"

"I liked Albert!" Albert protested as Grace left the room. "It means bright and noble."

Diego rolled his remaining eye. "So fitting. My name means taking over something with scheming and force."

"You've never done anything scheming, topo. Except for when you tried to set a shed on fire because a girl bullied you in highschool."

Diego scowled and flopped onto the couch. "She sucked."

Lupo sat down on the couch next to him. "She did suck. You were an adorable teenager."

He huffed and leaned his head against his father's leg. "I was, wasn't I?"

"Still are."

Diego smiled and they stayed there in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few minutes. He looked up at Lupo. "Hey Lupo?"

He looked down at his son and made a grouchy old man noise of acknowledgement. He set his hand on Diego's arm, the usual way they communicated affection. Their form of affection was Diego leaning on Lupo while he read books to him. They hadn't done that since the divorce though. 

Diego nuzzled his head against his father. "You know what my first memory of you is?"

Lupo thought for a moment. "I don't."

Diego sat up and leaned his head against Lupo's shoulder. "Remember when you were working out for your captain exam thing?" 

"Yeah. God, that was rough. Had to be able to lift sixty pounds," Lupo reminisced, smiling slightly. 

Diego poked Lupo's cheek. "You didn't, you just wanted to. Remember what you did to practice for that?"

"Something, something running in the park?" Lupo offered. 

Diego poked him again. "You put me in a baby backpack and did pushups with me on your back."

"Huh." He sat there in silence before squeezed Diego's shoulder. "You like that memory?"

He hugged Lupo's arm. "Yes. Because I love you."

"You do?" 

Diego nodded and nuzzled his head into Lupo's shoulder. "Course I do. I just got upset because I felt like you were replacing me and mom with Grace."

Lupo sighed and turned to face his son. "I would never try to replace you in any way, okay?" He squeezed Diego's arm lightly. "Just because I'm not married to your mother anymore doesn't mean I don't care about her. She mothered the best kid in the universe and she was a great wife."

Diego smiled. "I am the best kid ever, huh?"

"You are, Topo."

"And I'm sorry that I called you fat."

"You didn't call me fat, you implied I was fat," Lupo corrected. 

Diego rolled his eye. "At least that was the meanest thing I ever said to you."

Lupo rolled his eyes right back. "When I showed you a picture of me pregnant with you, you said "ew.""

"It was the soul patch, man. The soul patch sucked so hard."


	36. Good Ol' Boys Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet a delightful new character whom you'll all love. Oh yeah and someone pukes.

In the spirit of father-son bonding, Diego and Lupo decided to watch the Star Wars prequels. The first time Diego watched them was with him and as he would say, they "fucked real hard." 

Five had joined them partway through Attack of the Clones and soon fell asleep, curled up like a 38-kilogram cat. Lupo and Diego fell asleep soon after, the latter with his head on the lap of the former with one of his fake mink blankets. 

It said "My Guardian Angel Drinks Tequila" in red cursive over a picture of Rihanna with angel wings and Grace hated it. She had replaced it with his Jessica Rabbit blanket while he slept before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

"You were the chosen one!" Obi-Wan yelled at Anakin on the TV in front of the couch as Lupo's radio crackled to life. 

"23152 on 37th street resulting in an 11-83. Suspected 499b," a bored-sounding voice said over the radio. 

Lupo sat up, rubbing the back of his neck before holding down the button. "499b? Is that one prostitution?"

A disgruntled sigh. "Joyriding. 647b is prostitution."

Lupo rubbed at his eyes. "Backup requested?"

"Yep," they said in a voice that sounded like it would much rather tell him to fuck off. 

Diego blinked slowly, squinting at his father. "What the fuck is happening?" 

Lupo held up a finger to him. "I'll be there in ten." He shut off his radio and turned to Diego. "I gotta go. Drunk driver."

He huffed and wrapped his blanket around himself. "Bye," Diego mumbled, snuggling into Jessica Rabbit’s boobs. 

Lupo ruffled the hair behind Diego's ears as he got up. "I'll see you, Topo."

He smiled sleepily and pulled his blanket around himself, nuzzling his face into the couch cushions. Five scowled and pulled his nonsexual throw blanket around himself. "Shut up," he huffed. "I'm sleeping."

* * *

John Perseus X was not known for his morals. He was known for his father's company, being a playboy, his brief modelling and child acting career, a very public love affair with Paris Hilton but not his moral compass. And to the city's police, he was about to be known for crashing a Mercedes SUV into the dumpster behind a pet store. 

Lupo pulled up to the crash and parked his squad car before lighting a cigarette and getting out. He groaned as he recognized the Medusa head painted on the wreck. Only a Perseus kid would drive drunk on a Wednesday at 5 am. 

An EMT was already dragging the youngest Perseus out of the driver's seat. John had a severely popped shirt collar and puka shell necklace that made him look like even more of a douchebag than he usually did. The EMT nodded at Lupo as she helped John sit down in the back of the ambulance. "You wanna wait until he's sober to read him his Miranda rights?"

"Yeah, alright. But as soon as you know he ain't dying, he's coming in," Lupo huffed, leaning against his car. 

She rolled her eyes as she began taking John’s vitals. “Right, I forgot cops don’t care about human lives.”

Lupo took a drag on his cigarette and smiled tightly. "Alright, doctor, no one asked." He didn't get paid enough for this shit. 

He also didn't get paid enough for the amount of paperwork he did. Lupo flipped through the stack of arrest papers and dropped them on his desk next to the boy handcuffed to it. 

John groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Can we get this over with? I've got places to be."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before driving four times over the legal limit," Lupo snapped, filling out the paperwork with his neat black writing. 

John leaned over and glanced at the older man's signature. "A. Lupo? Heyyyy I've heard that name, I think..."

"Yeah, I've arrested you before, boy," Lupo said flatly. 

Perseus laughed drunkenly and shook his head. "No, no, you've… you've done something else."

Eudora set a coffee on Lupo's desk and smiled. "Black like you like it. Lunch is on you."

He nodded at her and took the cup. "Yeah, thanks, Dora. I'm not buying you nothin' expensive though."

She fake-pouted and took a sip of her coffee. "Damn, I was hoping for lobster in the middle of a shift." 

The blond idiot cuffed to the desk rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Sweetheart, he’s too old for you, but if you’re looking for a good time-” John cut himself off by vomiting on the police station floor. He coughed hard and threw up again, this time on the front of his shirt and pants. 

Eudora delicately stepped around the sick on the floor. “I’ll get the janitor before this whole place smells like Smirnoff.”

“I don’t, don’t drink that shittt,” John mumbled, his words slurring together. “I’m- ‘m not fucking broke…”

The arrest paperwork too longer than it should have, what with John continuously throwing up and rambling on about bullshit that didn’t make any kind of fucking sense and Lupo was tired of interacting with civilians. He wanted to have his third coffee of the day in the corner booth of Costello’s Diner with his future daughter-in-law while she talked about the B&E she was working on. Sure Diego hadn’t proposed to Eudora yet but it was coming. Lupo hadn’t seen his son buy a new racy blanket in months so Diego had to be saving up for something expensive, possibly wedding expensive. Despite being a pretty traditional and masculine guy, Lupo liked weddings. 

As he was getting to his feet for his lunch break, Eudora touched Lupo's arm lightly. "Hey, before we go, you might wanna change out of that shirt and uh, maybe get a jacket." 

He looked down at his dark grey button down shirt. "What's wrong with it?"

Eudora pursed her lips. "You got some, uh lipstick on your collar and there's a…" she trailed off as she gestured to his neck. 

From the desk beside Lupo's, Detective Body snorted. "Man, how are you still pulling at your age?"

Lupo laughed and covered the mark on his neck. "Women love a man in uniform and how old do you think I am?"

Body rolled his eyes. "You don't wear a uniform and I dunno, seventy?"

Eudora covered her mouth with her hand as Lupo made an annoyed old man noise. "Seventy? Jesus, Body, that's why women don't like you. And I still have my old uniform, it's just somewhere in my closet." 

Laughing, Eudora moved her hand off her mouth to play with her rabbits foot. "It's not in your closet. Diego took it and-"

"Nope!" Lupo cringed and shook his head. "Nope, don't want to hear that! As he left for the locker room, he heard snippets of Eudora and Body's conversation. 

"I guess women really do love a man in uniform. Or at least a twink."

"Diego is not a twink."

Lupo frowned as he reached his locker, noticing that the door was bent slightly. That with the ringed scratches by the lock, it was obvious that someone had broken into it. Scowling, he clenched his hands into fist and took a shaky breath. Lupo didn't have anger issues, exactly but he certainly didn't enjoy being fucked with. 

After some effort, he managed to open the door and amongst Lupo's clothes and spare weapons were three new additions. A fluffy pink dress, silver heels and the worst thing of all; a matching tiara. 


End file.
